Salubrious Snape Oil
by DZAuthor AKA DZMom
Summary: Severus Snape made love to Hermione when she used her own invention, a time shifter, to meet him in his past. He is shocked to discover that his Potions student is a prepubescent Hermione Granger who has no idea that she will be his future lover. Some AU.
1. A Very Vexed Severus Snape

**March 30, 2011  
**[_edited April 5th_]

Many thanks to Christina Wynnwood (FF pen name) for being the Beta reader on this fic. I highly recommend her story in progress: _An Unlikely Pairing_.

My work features a Hermione and Severus relationship in which Hermione uses her own time shifter invention to visit Professor Snape in his past. How this works will become clearer as more chapters are released. The characters may appear Out Of Character because I am trying to portray the staff in their adult world that is not often seen by students. Let me know if any OOC really bugs you. I am not well versed in the Harry Potter universe, so expect a bumpier ride than usual.

This story is an Alternate Universe but I am attempting to frame it with canon events. If there are any glaring contradictions, please let me know. Since I am writing this without a solid outline, you are welcome to recommend HG/SS scenes from canon. Chapter 2 will reveal more about the AU nature of Hermione Granger.

M-rating for adult situations, including lemon-lime flavoring.

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**Chapter 1  
A Very Vexed Severus Snape  
**

"Granger," the Potions Master called out. A hand shot up. Severus Snape looked from the eager face and back to his parchment attendance list. "Her …"

_Her name is the same_.

He shook the thought from his head and continued, "My …"

… _first lover. It can't be._

Looking at her again: "Oh, my."

The quill floating in front of the list faltered. Miss Granger was not marked in attendance for Potions.

"Hermione," the girl corrected him. "Not _her-my-oh-my_."

He glared at her for daring to correct him. If Severus had run afoul of his day earlier, he was convinced that he now had smashed headlong into it. Anger burned inside him at the cruel trick that he was allowing the little siren to play on him. How dare this diabolical creature torment him by showing up after all these years, not even in a form to satisfy his carnal needs?

"Greengrass," he barked, catching sight of a girl in a Slytherin robe. "Daphne?" He pondered the river nymph of her namesake.

"Yes, sir."

"Did I give you permission to speak, Miss Greengrass?" He scowled at the entire class and they all shrank back. All except for one boy. The progeny of his deceased nemesis James Potter and schoolboy crush Lily Evans.

He abandoned taking attendance for the moment. "What an honor it is, Class, that we should have a celebrity in our midst. Go ahead and give him a round of applause."

He watched his students timidly look over to Harry Potter. Most were cautious in their smattering of adoration. But Hermione Granger clapped vigorously, her eyes on her professor as if she wished to prove her applause skills.

Harry kept his head down. "Quiet!" Professor Snape yelled. "It appears that Mr. Potter is an arrogant fool who will not accept your pathetic veneration."

Finally the boy looked up, shaking his head and giving Severus a glimpse of the disgusting scar on his forehead.

Quickly completing the attendance sheet, the Potions Master laid into Harry Potter with a vengeance. He found great satisfaction in putting the pint-sized celebrity into place. He had hoped that his efforts to humiliate the boy would keep his own thoughts off of Hermione Granger. But each time he asked Harry Potter a successively more challenging question, the girl's overeager spirit grew more restless. She wriggled in her enthusiasm to show off her otherworldly knowledge.

At last young Harry Potter pointedly remarked that Hermione appeared to be in want of Snape's attentions. Resisting the urge to reveal her true identify in front of the First Years, he snarled, "Sit down." The sprite wilted into submission.

Class ended none too soon for the Potions Master.

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########

"That Defense Against the Dark Arts bumberclunge failed to insulate Hogwarts from the penetration of a succubus."

Albus Dumbledore looked up from his cluttered desk. "Ah, Severus. Always a pleasure to see you. But you really ought to put away that wand before you hex my eye out." The Potions Master collapsed his wand and slid it atop his ear.

"Not falling into old habits, are you, Professor Snape?" Albus good-naturedly goaded, standing up and stretching. "I haven't seen you place your wand behind your ear since, when was it? Your Sixth Year?"

Taking three leggy steps forward, Severus tucked his wand into his robe and then he slammed his open palms onto the stout oak desktop. "What possible interest could you have in recalling my wretched schoolboy years while the First Years are at this very moment fraternizing with a shrewd demon."

The Headmaster pulled on his long, white beard. "First Years, then?"

Severus stood straight again, his black robe gently falling into place. "Yes." He rubbed his palms. "Pardon my outburst, Albus."

Albus walked around to the front of the desk. "No harm done to this solid oak, Severus," he winked as he rapped it with his knuckles.

The professor looked at his own red and smarting hands before continuing his tirade. "A demon managed to finagle a Muggle name onto my student list and posed as a Potions student. This breach must be swiftly remedied, although you will not find Professor Quirrell sufficient to the task."

"Now I ask you to forgive my impudence." Albus looked straight into the eyes of the livid Potions Master. "I recall a certain incident involving Mudblood-name-calling. Let us both hope that this is not related."

Severus snapped, "That was Evans. This is Granger."

Albus walked away from the taut figure standing before him. Reaching the cherry wood credenza, he asked, "Shall we have a drink?" He conjured up two Hogwarts-logo-embossed shot glasses and poured from a decanter of scotch.

Severus refused the proffered intoxicant. "How might I clarify this exigency, Albus?"

The aged Headmaster gulped the shot as the glass disappeared. "Ahhhh," he smacked his lips. "If you aren't interested?" He lifted the other shot glass to his own lips. "Well, then," interrupting himself to knock back the drink swiftly, "let us discuss how it has come about that you are accusing an eleven-year-old of being a temptress."

Severus guarded his chest with crossed arms. "I suppose the demon has a cunning ability to appear younger now than when I first encountered it."

Albus placed a wrinkled old hand on the arm of his Potion Master's black robe. With a relieved exhale, he confirmed, "So your familiarity with this, ah … succubus, as you call her, involves a much older vision of Granger, am I right?"

The dark eyes of Severus Snape flashed dangerously. "I'm not a cradle snatcher, if that is what you are playing at. Perhaps you could explain to me how this ... this _thing_ could appear to be my own age when I was a Sixth Year, and now, so many years later appears before me as a child."

Albus fingered his mustache. "Could use another drink," he muttered. He appraised the raised eyebrows on the face of Severus Snape. "Right, then. Two is enough for one night." Albus stroked his beard once again. "I assure you, Severus, that Granger is completely human, an extremely bright witch with a promising future. I myself cast the final vote for her acceptance into Hogwarts at the selection committee."

Severus took a step back and winced. "Then I have committed the unthinkable."

"Are you quite sure? Miss Granger is more intelligent than first appearances suggest. As for altering the fabric of time or space, I do not doubt her capacity to ..." He paused, letting his eyes drift toward the ceiling where, with any luck, his lost thought might be spelt out with a floating finger.

"I shagged her in my Sixth Year," Severus spat.

The Headmaster chuckled. "Did you, now? Oh, there is no need to appear so horrified. She appeared to be of age at the time, did she not?"

"She came to me," Severus snarled. "I didn't even know her." _Why did I need to have her?_ He brushed his fingers through his black hair, leaving several strands hanging in front of his eyes.

"There, you said it yourself." Albus turned away from Snape, twirling the edge of his bushy white eyebrow with one hand. "I admit, Severus, I am quite relieved that your affiliation with Miss Granger is unrelated to your current tenure at Hogwarts."

"But how could this happen?"

Albus Dumbledore spun back around. His eyes gleamed. "It appears that you have finally met a witch as cunning as yourself, my good friend. But I must order you to take part in no investigation or action toward the child. The past will unravel itself."

Severus nodded. "I will do my best to suppress any memories …"

"Yes, that would be best. And for my part, I promise to keep my eye on the girl in order to mitigate any more complicating effects that her behavior may have on other staff."

A new expression crossed the face of the Potions Master. "So she might have done this same trick to others? To gain some sort of advantage, then?"

Albus shook his head. "Don't over think this one, Severus. By the looks of things, it will be several years until our gentle succubus shall pose any threat." His eyes twinkled.

With a nod, Severus turned to leave. "And Professor Snape," Albus called out, causing the stern man to break his stride. "Do come to talk with me if her feminine wiles prove to be too much to …"

"Thank you, Albus." Severus threw open the door. The Bloody Baron was hovering at the keyhole but quickly rose to the ceiling. With a grin the Baron gestured his frilly arm sleeve for Severus Snape to proceed out of the Headmaster's office. "Do not interfere with me, you bloody fool," Severus barked. The ghostly Baron gave an offended turn of his head before floating into the wall. The Potions Master stormed away, the tail of his black robe trailing behind, barely at pace.


	2. Hunting Down Hermione's History

**April 5, 2011  
**I greatly appreciate the excellent Beta reading by Christina Wynnwood. Her commentary has helped me write a much better story. Check out her fiction in progress, _An Unlikely Pairing_.

Enjoy!

* * *

_With Chapter 3 comes a dark and delicious Severus Snape and Hermione Granger scene. It shall be titillating._

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**Chapter 2  
Hunting Down Hermione's History**

Severus brooded over the stack of student records. _Albus won't be fooled. All these years and I never bothered to open a single student's Curriculum Vita. _

He paced in front of his worktable. _It is my responsibility to know the strengths and weaknesses of my Potions students._

He put a privacy ward on the dungeon door of his office. _I have a duty to review her Vita, don't I?_

Severus lifted the cover of the top folder with feigned interest. A stout boy in a mug shot puffed out his chest and crowed, "Pure blooded wizard. The only kind fit for Hogwarts. One day we'll get rid of all the Mudbloods, right, Mr. Snape?"

"Shut up, Goyle." Severus slammed the Vita shut. He sorted through the stack. His hands settled on the one marked "Wizard Harry James Potter."

The Potions Master ran his hand over the sharp stubble on his jaw, not bothering to charm it away. He opened the file slowly. Try as he did, he could not avoid looking at the boy in the photograph. Harry lifted his arm to shield his eyes from the light.

As the young wizard gazed at Severus with curiosity, the professor whispered, "Why did you have to have Lily's eyes?"

"You can talk?" Harry asked with a start. He leaned forward, squinting at Severus.

"Of course I can talk, Imbecile. You certainly inherited the brains of your father." Severus began to close the file.

"No, wait!" Harry pleaded.

Severus held the folder half open and gave a piercing look at the child. "What is it?"

"It is rather lonely and dark in here, and ..."

"Do not presume that I care about your loneliness, Potter," Severus hissed through clenched teeth.

Harry gulped. "That is to say, I mean, I heard you say my mum's name. Did you know her?"

Severus thumbed the edge of the parchment as he sneered. But then his face softened. "Lily Evans was the only woman I had the privilege of calling a true friend."

Severus began to close the file. Reconsidering, he added, "Your mum would be proud of your acceptance at Hogwarts."

Harry's face filled with wonderment. "Thank you, Sir!" Severus gently shut the parchment cover.

Shuffling through the remaining Vitae, he found hers. With care he placed the folder of Hermione Granger on top of all the others. He absentmindedly flipped his finger tip over the corner, _phlitt_, _phlitt_, _phlitt._ A muffled girl's voice complained, "Must you dog ear my Curriculum Vita? Some of the professors haven't even opened it yet. The shame! Like showing up for the first day of school in wrinkled clothes. And I can't recall the spell for smoothing out wrinkles just at this moment."

Severus turned away from the table. "Does she never shut up?"

"I heard that!" a muffled complaint rose from the folder.

The professor paced around his office. _Her Vita can't be wrong. Plainly she is a mere witch. _

Strong magic recorded the Curriculum Vita of every witch or wizard who attended Hogwarts. Severus reasoned that only ancient sorcerers would have the power to fabricate a Vita. Even if the Ancients had played some cruel trick upon Severus, the archaic demons, like succubi, rarely cooperated with that kind of magic. If Hermione Granger had a Curriculum Vita she was human, not demonic.

_Perhaps I have mistaken the young witch for the succubus. Hermione is a rare name, yes, but it is not inconceivable that a demon should choose it as well. The resemblance could be a simple coincidence. _

A chime from the Clock Tower roused Severus out of his thoughts. He lifted the ward and exited his office. Raising his wand again, he secured the door with a spell to protect the Vitae. Only the Headmaster of Hogwarts would be able to enter his office and make use of the files. All other attempts to access the folders, magical or not, would be blocked until Severus cancelled the spell himself.

The Potions Master left the dungeons and prowled the halls of the castle. He made his way through the Hufflepuff corridors without incident. In the passageways of Ravenclaw Severus followed the sounds of whispers, hushes and stolen kisses. Rounding the corner, he pounced upon two unsuspecting students. "Didn't get enough snogging in over the summer?"

In the shadows, the students pulled away from each other. "Lumos." Severus flicked his wand and shone a light into the darkness. He questioned a dark-haired student, "Erwin Lovechurch?" The boy stood up and shrunk back. "Yes, Sir."

Severus pointed the light at the other student who stood up now. He tried to identify the face hidden by long and shaggy blonde hair.

Erwin took a deep breath and began to protest, "Professor Snape, I can explain ..."

Ignoring Erwin, Severus commanded in a harsh and cold voice, "Look at me."

The other boy looked up and stared defiantly back at his Potions Master. Severus looked back to Erwin and then at Raymond Cornby again.

Peeves the poltergeist popped into the air. "Oh, snap! Professor Snape."

Raymond whipped out his wand and pointed it at Peeves. "Don't say a word!"

Peeves chortled. "Kiss and tell? You in love fell."

Erwin adjusted his robe. "It's just that ... If our classmates see Raymond and me together, like this ... We waited until after hours ..." Erwin's voice trailed off.

"I get enough ribbing from the Quidditch team, Sir," Raymond explained. "I don't want Erwin to be called a poof like I am. At least he's still respected at Hogwarts."

Peeves started chanting, "Poofter! Poofter!"

Professor Snape growled, "Peeves, one more word and you will be scattered to the seven seas."

"How 'bout four words?" Peeves laughed.

"Quiet!" Snape seethed. Peeves covered his mouth. The students cringed.

"Mr. Cornby and Mr. Lovechurch, you will report to Headmaster Dumbledore's office immediately and you will wait there until he arrives. Then you will tell him exactly why you felt entitled to break curfew.* Now, can I trust you to keep your hands to yourselves while you are unsupervised?"

"Yes, Sir," Erwin and Raymond both answered.

"Don't just stand there," Severus growled.

Erwin hung his head and shuffled forward. Raymond stood his ground and stared at his professor through thick bangs. "Will there be detention?"

"No," Severus said. "Get on, then, before I change my mind."

Raymond hurried to catch up with his boyfriend.

Severus finished patrolling Ravenclaw with Peeves following soundlessly behind him. Upon entering the halls of Gryffindor, Severus finally spun around and demanded, "What is it that you want?"

"Not making trouble for Master Snape. Not telling the Baron's secret about your succub—"

Minerva McGonagall rounded the corner before Peeves finished. "Severus," she muttered, not bothering to look at him as she passed.

"Do you detest me so much, Minerva, that you cannot even bare to look me at me as we pass in the hall?"

The witch stopped short and turned back to take in his glare. "Why Severus, I never knew you paid attention to eye contact at all."

Peeves covered his eyes and danced in the air. "Eye no look-see! Eye no look-see!"

Severus ignored Peeves and walked closer to his colleague. "Why is that, Minerva?"

Professor McGonagall snorted. "You have never had the decency to address me as we passed in the hallway, unless we had some other official business at hand."

Severus said nothing.

Peeves hooted, "See no elvsies. Hear no elvsies. Speak no elvsies."

Minverva shook her head in annoyance. "About official business, Severus, I am looking for the Vita of Hermione Granger. Albus sent me word that she is one who holds much promise and asked me to keep watch on her. You were the last to retrieve her folder, isn't that correct?"

"Yes, I have all of the First Year records in my office this very moment."

"Oh, thank goodness I found you. May I summon Granger's Vita to my office then?"

"No," Severus glared.

"Well, why not?"

Severus paused for a moment before answering, "I have not finished looking it over. Now if you'll excuse me, I will complete my rounds and get back to reviewing my students' files."

He began to walk past her but paused and looked back. "How shall I deliver them to you when I am done?"

With a tight smile, Minerva said, "As long as you're taking an interest in Gryffindor students, take all the time you need. I'll put a charm on the records cabinet to notify me when Hermione's folder is returned."

Severus nodded to his colleague. "Thank you, Minerva. I had no idea you could be so civil." As he walked away, Professor McGonagall remarked to Peeves, "I'd be a hell of a lot more civil if Gryffindor would defeat Slytherin at Quidditch for once."

The Potions Master chuckled when her remark reached his ears. _Still proud as ever_, _Minerva?_

He ended his patrol by descending to the dungeons. He paid a visit to the Slytherin Common Room where the Malfoy boy still had a pair of miniature henchmen joined at his hip, just as he'd had during Potions and dinner. The older Slytherins had already initiated the First Years into the Slytherin student code of conduct. The Prefects had cast Snape's own Langlock jinx to be triggered whenever a Slytherin attempted to discuss internal affairs with outsiders. The moment the jinx activated, the student's tongue would stick to the roof of his or her mouth until released by a fellow Slytherin.

Satisfied that he would have yet another trouble-free year as head of Slytherin, Severus returned to his office. But when he removed the protection from his office door he heard the voice of an older woman inside.

"Yes, Hermione, you and I are one and the same. You will become Headmistress at Hogwarts." There was a pause. "I've come to visit your Potions Master just now, so it's time that I close your Vita. And Dear, do try to remember that it is no use worrying so much."

* * *

Note  
* This sentence was added as an explanatory edit on May 18, 2011.


	3. The Potion Master's Petulant Pet

**April 11, 2011**  
Thanks for the beta reading, Christina!**  
April 9, 2011**  
I sincerely thank all of you for taking the time to review. That encouragement helps me to stay focused to complete this fan fiction.

This story explores the role Severus plays, often behind the scenes, throughout each book in the series. I'd like to find out if you out there want to read a fan fiction that meanders through the series, and ends up as long as novel (no less than 50,000 words). Perhaps readers really just want the nitty gritty and wish that I would get to the key plot points. My current writing style is drawing out this story to a longer fiction. This would mean that the reveal won't come for a long while. Are you up for that?

Yeah, I'm just trying to get a review. Thank you for adding me on your alerts, non-reviewers!

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**The Potion Master's ****Petulant ** Pet  
Chapter 3

The Potions Master hung back in the dungeon corridor. He had reason to be wary about entering his office. When he had gone on night patrol of the castle, he had left the First Years' Student Vitae on his worktable. After he returned and removed the protective spell to safeguard the files, he could hear the voice of a woman through the door. He was certain that his spell had allowed for only Headmaster Dumbledore to access the folders.

A scuffling noise behind Severus caused him to turn his back to the door. "Lumos," he uttered. Bristling, he prepared for threats from the both the corridor and his office. "Show yourself," he growled into the dark corners. "I know you are lurking outside my office."

Severus heard a faint _whissss _of cloth brushing against the stone dungeon walls. "You do not want to cross paths with me," he threatened. A purple wad of cloth emerged from the shadows, then the face of Quirinus Quirrel, followed by the trembling body. "Quirinus?" Severus scowled at his colleague.

"He-Hello, Severus."

The colleague had a defeated frown on his face and his eyes flashed at those of the Potion Master. Severus guarded his own expression. He silently performed Legilmency to read the mind of the woman he'd heard inside his office.

_I've taken all this effort to visit Severus and now that buffoon Quirrel interferes. __  
_

Speaking to Professor Quirrel, Severus accused, "Do you fancy me, Quirinus, that you prowl around my office to wait for my return?"

"Cer-certainly not! I was looking for the Vita of a student. You've been keeping them locked in your office, haven't you?"

Severus pointed his wand at the offensive git. "Anyone in particular that you've got your eye on?"

"N-no," he stammered, "n-no one in particular."

"Perhaps I should tell you, Quirinus, that I spoke to Dumbledore earlier today. It seems that a succubus has infiltrated the bliss that is Hogwarts. It is rather shameful that you have not shown yourself capable of protecting the castle, isn't it?"

_So that is where the rumors of Snape's Succubus started. Right from the wizard's own mouth. If Succubus is what he wants, then Succubus he shall get._

Professor Quirrel wrung his hands. "There is a de-demon inside Hogwarts Castle?"

"Yes. It seems you are proving to be inept at defense, particularly of the dark sort."

"H-how was I to know?" he protested. "I have only j-just arrived."

Severus sneered. "A true defender would know. But I suspect you are a charlatan, like the other powerless wizards who preceded your post."

_Indeed. Now this little costume ought to do._

Quirinus trembled and raised his wand. "I m-may – I m-may – I may seem rather timid, but I know things that would make you sh-shiver in a blazing furnace, Severus."

Severus felt his top lip curling up. "Tell me more."

"Wh-why would I bo-bother? I-I've heard what is whispered about you in dank and musty cellars. H-haven't you heard the gl-gloating laughs a-about that po-pompous ass Dumbledore m-making a fool of y-you?"

Severus provoked him, "I do not care what any of your feigned acquaintances might have to say, Quirinus."

_Brilliant. I'd give my left tit if Quirrel fails to take the bait._

Severus won a swift reaction. Quirinus clutched his wand, leaned forward and hissed, "Do you not know what the Knights of Walpurgis have been saying behind your back?"

Severus asked with a chilling whisper through gritted teeth, "What do you know of those who followed the Dark Lord?"

Quirinus shrank back. "The Da-Dark Lord?"

"Yes, do tell me what the Knights, the Death Eaters, have said about me."

"They- they say you are Dumbledore's d-d-d-drudge."

_Of all the asinine things I've heard! Severus was never anyone's drudge. I'm going to put a stop to this. Let's see, now. Cat eyes. Perfectly demonic. _

Severus sneered. "I never knew a former Muggle Studies Professor would associate with –"

The door of the office opened, flooding the entryway with light, and Severus released the Lumos charm. He watched the eyes of Quirinus widen with a questioning furrow of his eyebrows below that ridiculous turban.

Severus felt a warm body press into his back. An exquisite arm snaked around his chest. The tender hand was tipped in flaming vermillion fingernails. It was joined by a partner. Fingers that emerged from a sable silk and lace glove wrapped up to his shoulder. The evil twin slithered down his leg, brushing against his instrument of Amor.

"Severus," the sex kitten's petulant voice drawled, "why do you keep me locked up all day and then make me wait so long at night?"

Severus smirked at Quirinus. "Not now, Pet. Can't you see that I'm talking to our Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor?"

A bundle of curly tresses slipped under the wand arm of Severus. "I'm very, very frightened."

Severus glanced at her pouting lips. She looked up at him, her face concealed with a Muggle artifact, a slant-eyed masquerade ball mask shimmering in amber hues. He purred, "Don't be afraid."

The temptress lifted her bare leg in front of him and then her arms lashed out wildly, desperately clinging to his robe as she tottered precariously. Severus firmly gripped her shoulders. If he had allowed her to totter over it would have been a dead give-away of her non-ethereal origin.

Severus lowered his voice to a cold murmur, "My dark arts will be more than enough to protect you."

She showed her gratitude by teasing his shin with a raging red kitten heel on a winklepicker. As he pulled her to his side, he glimpsed her voluptuous, creamy breasts offering to spill out of the char-black negligee.

Severus raised his eyes in a challenge to his colleague. Quirinius blushed a deep red that did not flatter his purple turban one bit.

With a dark snigger, the Potions Master said, "Now you see for yourself, Quirinus. The temptations that keep me at Hogwarts far outweigh the inconvenience of doing the bidding of that old fart Dumbledore."

Quirinus gawked at the seductress. "What is she?


	4. Poignant Pleasure

**April 11, 2011  
**Thanks goes to Christina Wynnwood who has beta read a couple of versions of this chapter and gave many helpful comments. Send her chicken soup wishes for good health and getting caught up on schoolwork and her fiction in progress, _An Unlikely Pairing_.

If you haven't read _Deathly Hallows_ yet, perhaps you should do that first. I would hate to be the one to spoil it for you by revealing one of the most important themes hidden in the series. Just because I'm delving into the final book of the series does not mean that I decided to write a short fiction. I'm just bringing the motive of Severus Snape to the forefront rather than keeping it secret, as JKR did with incredible mastery.

*Spoiler Alert: _Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows_*  
*Mature Content: There will be lemonade. Body parts may be named with anatomically correct terms - _le gasp!_*

* * *

**Poignant Pleasure**  
**Chapter 4  
**

"Pathetic," Severus snarled at Quirinus with contempt. "I call forth my pet and the best response you can manage is 'What is she?'"

The woman unwrapped herself from Severus. She levitated and proceeded to glide toward Professor Quirrel. Severus noted that her mastery of levitation nearly surpassed his own.

The woman pointed an index finger with a flaming fingernail at the purple turban Quirinus wore. "I will show you who I am when you show me who you are," she whispered in a sultry voice. Her left hand fingered the cat-eyed masquerade ball mask concealing the top of her face.

The blush Quirinus had shown turned quite pale. "I-I'll be going now, Professor Snape."

"So soon?" The Potions Master gave him a dark smile.

Quirinus tugged the turban further down on his head. "I've got other m-matters to attend at to the m-moment."

Severus breezed forward, pushing the woman behind him. He pointed his wand between his colleague's eyebrows, which were raised in terror. "If you tell anyone about what you have seen, the consequences will be dour."

Quirinus stepped backwards and bumped into the wall. Then he turned and fled.

Severus turned on the woman and pointed her into his office, wand still raised. "You're going to melt me with your smoldering eyes, Severus."

He forced her backwards into his office. She had a bemused smile as she took careful, small steps back. She nearly lost her balance on the heels, though, and Severus shot out a long arm to steady her. She winked at him and gave a tittering, apologetic laugh. "Looks like I need more practice."

Once inside the office, Severus pointed his wand at the door. It slammed shut. He murmured a privacy charm. Then with a swing of his wand he extinguished the majority of candles and returned his office to its normal gloom.

The woman took off her mask. He lowered his wand and stared at her face. This was an all-grown-up Hermione, older than the First Year Potions student, older than his Sixth Year lover. She was … beautiful. Sexy. Mature. He pursed his lips, words at the tip of his tongue, and then he thought better of it.

Her smile showed sadness and regret. She reached up her hand and smoothed the long bangs out of his eyes. He looked into her dark brown eyes and thought: _Lily, kind, shy Lily, never stood this close to me. She never stood nearly naked in front of me. Lily never once looked at me with that burning desire._

His eyes grazed her body, inch by inch. First her face, down to her tantalizing breasts, on to her gloved hands and painted nails, past her stomach, to the edge of the silk that toyed with her thighs, down to her calves and her persimmon shoes.

She gently took his wand out his hand and pointed it at the fireplace. A warm blaze burst to life. Then, with a twist of the wand, layers of sheepskins blanketed the floor in front of the fire. She set the wand on his worktable and walked over to the fire.

With long, impatient strides he reached her, turned her hips, and pressed his mouth onto hers. She opened her lips to him and teased his tongue. His hands held her bare shoulders and slid down to her breasts punctuated with erect nipples. She was a foreign delicacy under his hands. He catalogued her perfections, smoothing his palm down her flimsy slip until he felt the bare skin of her thigh with his fingertips.

Her arms ensnared him. She closed her eyes and darted her tongue into his mouth. Their bodies pressed together. His hands wandered to her hair.

She had pulled her tresses into a bun with only a few ringlets hanging down around her face. He tried to undo the bun but his hands fumbled. He reluctantly pulled away from the kiss and turned her around. At last he found the hair pins and gently removed them.

Having won a victory with the locks of her hair, they now teased and bounced over her shoulders. He embraced her from behind and ran his hands over the lacy fringe that had no modesty to protect her breasts from him. His fingers slid under the lace as he gave a hopeful poke at her buttocks "You are far more beautiful than I remembered," he breathed onto the back of her neck.

"But you are as dark and dashing as ever." She twisted around.

He brushed his lips down her throat and nuzzled her shoulders. "You haven't shaved. It is a deliriously devilish sensation, like having pumpkin pudding for knees." She reached her arms around his shoulders but continued to sink under his charms.

His mouth returned to hers. He wanted to consume her. She kicked off her heels. But if she could do that, then she was not under his enchantment. So he smothered her skin with kisses and brushed his chin's evening stubble on her smooth face and neck. She resisted nothing. Soon he had her lying on the fluffy sheepskins. Her arms were gladly embracing him. Her hips lifted up to meet him.

He leaned over her and gazed into her brown eyes again. Those eyes told him something. _You are good, Severus. You are Slytherin sexy. You are the wizard who can satisfy my needs._

Hermione unbuttoned his shirt and ran her fingers along his chest. Severus unbuckled his trousers and she helped him pull them down his legs until he kicked them off. Then she slipped her hands around his buttocks and pulled down his drawers, using her toes to fling them on top of his pants.

He felt the pleasure of touching Hermione's bared legs with no clothing separating him from her. With difficulty he resisted the _coup de maître _and instead fingered the loose strap that had long since abdicated the shoulder it once ruled. He peeled back the lace cup to reveal her full breast. Filling his mouth with it, he teased its firm nub with his tongue. Then he went to share the love with her other breast.

He sat back and spread open Hermione's legs. He looked at her pink, aroused vulva and stroked it with his long finger. Then his finger claimed its rightful place within her.

"You are in heat, Pet," he chuckled, astonished at her warmth. He listened to her thoughts as she begged him to touch her clitoris with gentle, clockwise circles. She tightened around the pumping finger of his other hand. Her soft moans grew louder now. His eyes drifted to her face and he was rewarded with the look of ecstasy mixed with agony.

Unable to hold back, he lifted her hips up and pushed inside her. Her warmth and her contracting muscles invited him to push harder, again and again. Her face glowed with a rosy hue. Then he had a desire he could not resist. He turned her over. She spread her knees and arched her back, rising to meet him as he plunged into her.

She was masturbating herself, holding herself up with only one arm. Moaning and panting, Severus felt her quivering vagina contract around him. He rammed into her with more urgency until his eyes rolled up.

"Lily!" he groaned with a final thrust. Like the magical force that left his hand during dark magic spells, he felt himself transfer his energy to her.

They collapsed onto the sheepskins and he spooned against her, still enjoying the pulsing blood flowing in his erection. Their sweat mingled.

As he drifted toward the dreamless land of Nod, he felt her sit up. She conjured a cotton blanket and covered him with it. It took considerable effort to open one eye. "Going somewhere?"

"Yes."

Now both eyes were open and he sat up. "You're just leaving? you show up after nearly fifteen years and all you wanted was a shag?"

She leaned over him and kissed his forehead. "It's not like that, Severus."

"What is it like?" He swore at her. She picked up her own wand and flicked it. She was now fully clothed, wearing a heavy velvet Headmistress robe over plain teaching robes.

"You are still in love with someone else." She barely managed to choke out the words. Her face was red. He saw it contort with pain for such a brief moment that Severus wondered if he'd even seen it at all. But oppressive energy smothered the pleasure they'd just shared. He knew he'd seen something.

"No. I have no … one."

Her eyes filled like an Aquamenti charm, but she refused to let tears spill over. Biting her bottom lip fiercely, she took a bauble out of her pocket and spun it in her palm.

"I won't let you just leave," Severus said.

She looked at him, a straight line drawn across her lips. "You called out Lily's name, Severus!" Her voice broke and the tears spilled out. She wiped the tears away, first the one side, then the other. The orb glowed and she stared into it.

"I did not," Severus protested.

"I'll come back another time," she said, more to herself than to Severus.

The space where she had just stood was empty, as if she had performed a sort of Apparition with the magical object in her hand. He ran his finger through his hair and smelled her sorghum scent. When he stood up the sheep skins vanished and the fire sputtered out. His hands hung limply at his sides.

He could not recall what he had said. He did not know if he had said anything at all. He only knew that he had felt the poignant pleasure of making love to a woman after so many years of abstaining.


	5. After Tripping the Lust Fantastic

**April 16, 2011**

Thanks goes to Christina for her Beta reading. She's quite good at helping me to see where some of my writing might be going a bit gaga. (And she gives the nicest compliments.)

Of course, after she reads, I end up making many exciting new changes. I'm sure that there are some errors in my text below, since I've re-written quite a bit. This is one of my "get 'er done" days. So errors be damned, because up the chapter goes.

I hope you enjoy this chapter. It serves little purpose for plot but I show you a private side of Severus that wouldn't be seen in a tale told by a young'un at the strapping age of 11.

* * *

**After Tripping the Lust Fantastic  
Ch. 5**

Severus felt a chill creep through his dungeon office. Goose bumps formed on his bare legs. His penis lay flaccid and uninspired. He buttoned up his shirt, put on his drawers and trousers, and found his shoes. One of the shoes had narrowly missed being kicked into the fire that had been roaring lustfully just moments ago. The other was over by the worktable.

He was at war with his thoughts. _Of all the reckless, lubricious, satyric entanglements I've ever gotten myself into! How I let myself partake in such unrestrained, wanton, libertine behavior? Oh, but tripping the lust fantastic with her was divine. _

He slipped his feet into his leather shoes. Then he took up his wand and spoke a charm that sent the Curriculum Vitae back to their file cabinet. He had no need to read the file of Hermione Granger. She was a fine witch ... very fine.

_Do I always say the wrong thing to women? Would she have lain with a reprobate if she knew what I have done?_ Severus knew that the answer was "no."

_I'm no better than any who followed the Dark Lord. If I am brutally honest, I must admit that I am worse than all of them. I sealed Lily's fate the moment I opened my wretched lips and repeated that damnable prophecy._

The Potions Master left his office and sealed it. He entered his personal quarters and headed directly to his wash room. He was not fond of wasting water as were his colleagues. The disregard for the well water's reserves and the utter reliance upon magicked water was even worse among the students.

He removed his clothes once again, this time removing his socks as well, and folded then neatly into a pile for the elves to launder. Using their laundering was a necessary indulgence that he allowed himself only after his colleagues had complained to Albus of his peculiar smell and unkempt appearance during his first year teaching at Hogwarts.

Severus rinsed the sex off his fingers before he stooped down to pull a celadon basin out from under the sink. He filled it with warm tap water that he splashed on his face. Then he bent down to pick up a bone china pitcher. Leaning forward, he poured the warm water over his hair. He dashed a small amount of castile soap into his hands and lathered it all over his head. Although he wasn't overly fond of hair washing, he knew that her delicious scent would sour, revealing his indiscretion to anyone who got too close to him the next day.

The following day would be Saturday, and he had been scheduled to keep an eye on students at Hogsmeade for the first half of the day. It was a thankless life, being a professor at Hogwarts. There was no … _what did the Muggles call it? Right. Work-life balance_.

Severus rinsed the shampoo out of his hair. He emptied the basin and filled it again with fresh water for another rinse, repeating until his hair was free of lather. He felt the wet drips run down his neck and shoulders. Next he dipped his fingertips into a dish of his own pine tar soap. The soft gelatinous compound melted and foamed as he rubbed his hands together. He lathered under his armpits and then smoothed creamy lather into the crease of his buttocks. He leaned over the basin and splashed himself clean.

The refreshing scent of pine filled his washroom. He lifted his Slytherin green towel off its hook. He'd been gifted that towel by the Quidditch team after his first year as head of Slytherin. They'd broken a losing streak to reclaim the house cup from Gyffindor. He was certain that Lucius Malfoy had been the actual benefactor but, being the master of persuasion and influence that the man was, he'd stayed out of the spotlight. The team's spirits were further energized by the opportunity to appear magnanimous, leading to the years of victory they have enjoyed since.

After Severus wiped down his lengthening black hair and patted his body dry, he hung the cherished towel back up with care. The hook had formerly hosted a torn, moth-eaten gray towel that Severus had carried from his boyhood home.

The professor yawned, shuffled across the floor and rolled onto his sleeping cot. The cotton and wool bedding rubbed against his naked body. He lazily spoke the charm to extinguish all of the candles in his room. In the chilled dungeon he had a rare, energizing sleep which he could only attribute to his sexual performance.

In the early hours of the autumn morning he discovered why he had woken from his pleasant slumber. The intensity of his morning erection and a need to release a near-bursting bladder forced him to step onto the chilly stone floor. The relief that came to his little wizard, as he had affectionately named his penis since boyhood, gave him a sigh of satisfaction.

The moment he recalled last night's visitation he enjoyed the pleasurable feeling of blood coursing through his amorous appendage. He was pleased at his lively health as he pointed straight out. Severus had never made it a habit to love his own body. He was much more likely to flagellate himself than to masturbate. Today he made an exception and gave himself over to the immense enjoyment of a single-minded purpose: to ejaculate thousands of mini-Severi into his caressing hand.

He noted his physiological changes immediately. He enjoyed an acute reduction of stress, improved circulation and a difficult-to-pin-down mood of potent virility. Swishing his hands in the water basin, he washed away his indiscretion. He cleansed the foreskin and head of his cocky wizard, who kept jumping to attention, ready to please should anyone give him the light of day.

Severus wished he could just as easily clean up the mess with Hermione. He was still confused by her accusation. He had no memory of what blasted words might have escaped his lips at the moment he'd let himself orgasm and had been completely vulnerable.

Did she think he was accustomed to these moments? He had attended to her desires. He had carefully discerned how to arouse her and given her more than she might have hoped for with a man of lesser talents. But these thoughts were for naught. She was gone now.

Severus put his thoughts away, confining them into a deep recess of his mind much like he mastered his store room of potions ingredients. Before he left his wash room, Severus slid a grate off a sunken pan filled with sandy grit. He stepped into it and scratched his feet against each other, scrunching his toes to massage them. He shook away the sand and stepped out of the footbath.

Then he padded over the stones, his bare feet absorbing resolute energy from the cold dungeon floor. Freshly laundered black robes hung in a sparse closet. He dressed quickly but allowed himself the pleasure of tying a blackly burgundy scarf around his collar. He put on his stockings and then bent down and used a hollowed half goat horn to slip his feet into freshly brushed leather shoes.

Lastly he lifted his wand and left his quarters, making barely a sound as he walked through the dungeon to a door that very few at Hogwarts knew existed. The morning stars blinked their greetings to him and he breathed the cool night air deeply into his lungs until he was forced to exhale and begin again. After several deep breaths he ventured onto the dewy lawn and headed toward the Forbidden Forest.

He noted the delicate wisps of dahlia petals that painted the horizon. Crossbill birdsong erupted in the forest. The sky lightened moment by moment. Severus paused to watch a red squirrel stuff its cheeks full of hazelnuts. It looked up suddenly and scampered from a hazel shrub into the understorey.

A gentle rustling came from some shrubs in front of him. Severus stepped lightly and waited patiently. Moments later the rustling began again. Slowly he moved in a wide circumference to gain a better view of the animal that made the noise. He was rewarded when a female wood grouse bobbed into view. She snatched bilberries from a shrub and tossed them down her throat.

The unassuming female reminded him of Hermione. He thought of the woman in the Headmistress robes, looking pure and good, and contrasted her with the fiend who had aroused his dark pleasures. The female grouse lifted its dark and light flecked head and stared back at Severus with round, brown eyes. _They both have that _je ne sais quoi _– a mingling of the darkness and the light, with deceptively innocent eyes. _The grouse nodded her head and went back to gobbling berries.

Brilliant gold tones now streaked the blushing sky. Severus continued his stroll. A branch of a Scots pine gently patted his robe. A weasel greeted him, poking its long neck out of its den, its whiskered face sniffing the air with appreciation. Later, a hoverfly buzzed by his crooked nose.

At last he stooped over to collect black, ripe berries from a stand of alder buckthorn plants. He gently removed a pouch from his robe and placed each fruit carefully inside the cloth bag until it was full. With an incantation and tap of his wand he sent the potion ingredients back to his office.

The sky brightened and brushstrokes of tangerine-tinted clouds shimmered into view. Severus walked out of the forest, careful to not disturb the splendor. He flicked his robes with his wand to remove the bits of debris that were clinging to him. While he did this, he debated about returning to the castle. But instead he decided upon breakfast in Hogsmeade before the students descended on the little village. He would owl the Headmaster of his plans when he reached the quaint wizarding town. It was a fine day for a walk.


	6. Hogsmeade Happenings

**April 20, 2011**  
Christina Wynnwood served as Beta reader, bless her soul. She has to read the crazy, unformed ideas that zing out of my fingers. Thanks to her readings, you get a bit more of a refined take on the story, sans crazy plot bunnies.

She's recently updated _An Unlikely Pairing_. Check it out and share the love!

Special _**thank you**_s to Intoxicated 369 and Alyx Carlton for answering my question about a short vs. a long fanfic. Looks like I'll be going the route of a longer one.

Read and review, please. Appreciation for our writing is the only form of payment that fanfiction authors are allowed to receive, unless you count works like _Pride and Prejudice and Zombies_, due to the copyright expirations. So don't be stingy! If you're running short on _Knut_ty compliments, _Galleon_s of criticism will be an acceptable form of payment. *wink*

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**Hogsmeade Happenings  
Chapter 6**

Severus stepped out of the Hog's Head inn. His stomach sloshed and churned. He felt queasy after the breakfast of porridge, blood sausage and haggis, which was normally a favorite meal. The greasy and dingy pub was not renowned for its cleanliness.

He removed his wand and cast the charm, _Silento, _to quiet the rumbling in his upset stomach. _Next time I must remember to be grateful for the elves who provide our meals at Hogwarts_.

He dawdled near the village gates, keenly aware of the roiling in his intestines which continued, despite their muffled sounds. The strict Transfiguration Professor Minerva McGonagall led a menagerie of students into Hogsmeade. The formidable image of her crisply-pressed emerald witch's robe did not fool him. The industrious septuagenarian was just as likely to croon over a crushed elbow at a Quidditch match as she was to sentence a week's worth of detentions to students who bullied classmates with Bludger bats. _If she had her druthers, she would personally oversee the safety of each and every child at this school. _

Minvera gave a contrived smile to Severus as she approached. Students brushed past the two professors standing in the middle of the street. A gaggle of excited Hufflepuff witches rushed toward the Gladrags Wizardwear store and members of the Slytherin Quidditch team strode eagerly to the Spintwitches shop. Other students ambled around the main street, discussing their plans with friends.

"What ever could have happened to Trelawney?" Severus asked with mock curiosity, knowing full well what answer he would receive from the transfiguration teacher.

Minvera shook her head in exasperation. "You know Sybill and her tarot cards. She came by my quarters, lamenting over her latest reading. Any excuse she can get to avoid the trip to Hogsmeade, I suppose."

Severus raised his eyebrows. "One can hardly doubt her abilities."

She glowered at him. "I shan't eat humble pie over her latest augury, Severus." When he replied with only silence, she continued, more perturbed than before. "You don't know what it is like to put up with her nonsense about the curse of Janus and the trajectory of Mars. Then she went on to blather about the chariot of Albus and _ultima ratio regum_."

Snape said grimly, "Let us hope Albus does not lead us into the 'ultimate recourse' of war again."

"I have no need for hope when I have my own good sense to rely upon. That flibbertigibbet has lost her ever-bloody-mind, I tell you." She tucked a stray hair under her witch's cap.

"Tut tut, in-fighting among the Hogwarts felines, Minerva?"

Minvera sputtered, "Well, I never! I registered my animangus long before …" When she looked up at Snape's face and saw that she had fallen for his trap, she muttered. "A point to Slytherin for getting my goad."

They both chuckled, looking away from each other, pretending to watch over the students. "I never did like that ridiculous point system. But tradition dictates." Minerva sighed.

"It is certainly better than the old ways … torturing the wayward fools." Severus glanced at Minerva to see her nod.

He enjoyed the moments of silence as they watched their charges. Out of a sense that it would be polite to broker the conversation, he asked Minerva, "Have you any business in Hogsmeade?"

She turned back to face him. "All my shopping was completed Thursday evening, as today I was not scheduled to oversee the students. My lesson plans will have to wait till this afternoon. But I have complained enough, Severus. Is all well with you?"

Severus kept his tone even, his face expressionless. "It is a small turnout today. If you wish to resume your lesson planning, then do so. There will be no trouble today."

Minerva nodded to him, "Then I shall return to the castle. I know you are more than capable of keeping an eye on the children until Pomona relieves you after lunch."

"One should hope," Severus said with the slightest grin, which did not escape Minerva's attention.

"Pleasant day," she offered in departure before she disapparated to Hogwarts.

Severus strode quickly to the potion supply shop, Dogweed and Deathcap. He purchased a tiny bag of zingiber, muttering, "Nasty porridge at the Hog's Head" to the shopkeeper, who gave a sage nod. Chewing on the fresh root soothed his stomach. He didn't mind the pleasant burn on his tongue.

Feeling better, he strolled along the main street. As Slytherin students passed by, they hushed their chatting and laughing out of respect for their Head of House. Their somber regard for him seemed downright merry compared to the fear on the faces of the students from the other Hogwarts houses. In particular, the 'brave' Gryfindors hung their heads low and peered warily at him, as if he were a giant anaconda, poised to strike.

Only one student behaved differently. April Lek, the Seventh Year Slytherin Prefect, passed by and waved cheerfully at him. She shared a giggle with her Slytherin companions before she looked back. She met her professor's eyes for a brief moment and then her mahogany face brightened with the glow of rosewood. She flashed an ivory smile at him before tripping over one of her companion's feet and dropping her bags. He spared himself from watching any more of the blushes and giggles of the Slytherin girls.

Under the awning of Potage's Cauldron Shop he bided his time and watched the students. He was surprised to see a housewitch shopping. The matrons of families normally avoided the hubbub caused by the Hogwarts students. Married witches preferred to shop before students took over their village on the weekend. It was difficult to complete their shopping lists when boisterous teenagers milled around.

The housewitch kept her head covered in a scarlet scarf, no doubt due to the autumn chill. She entered Dogweed and Deathcap and he guessed that a child must be ill, hence the trip the apothecary.

Albus had asked the Hogwarts staff to keep particular vigilance over the students and the school due to the presence of the Philosopher's Stone. He doubted there would be any need for concern over students' safety off campus. Letting his mind wonder, he recalled last night's visitor. _How did she disapparate_ _with the school's restriction on such magic? That spherical object in the palm of her hand surely is related. _He determined to ferret out her true nature. He would find out how she had come by Headmistress robes and had gained access to the Student Vitae secured in his office.

Looking up, Severus noticed Erwin Lovechurch holding hands with Raymond Cornby, in public no less. They crossed the street from Honeydukes and entered the salon. It had a new sign on it, Surfeit Salon. _I see that Albus talked some sense into Lovechurch_, he surmised.

Footsteps on the wooden planks of the cauldron shop patio startled him. Students rarely shopped there because Potions was not a popular subject at Hogwarts, despite its usefulness to daily life. The lack of student interest perplexed Severus.

It was the housewitch walking toward him, sounding her footsteps on the planks of wood. It was apparent that she had completed her business at the apothecary. "Hello, Severus," her familiar voice greeted him.

He looked closely at the woman's face, restraining himself from showing any surprise that she knew him by name. This was the woman who'd played hanky panky with him last night.

"I thought we agreed to keep you locked up in my office," he quipped, unsure of how to proceed.

She looked at him with eyes questioning his meaning. "Oh, right." She half-laughed. "I'd forgotten about the ruse with Quirrel."

"Forgotten? I thought I gave a rather skillful performance last night," Severus said, crunching both anger and plummeting self-esteem between his molars.

"It's been over a month," she said too quickly. "I know – don't look at me that way." She challenged his skepticism with her lower jaw pushed forward in obstinacy. "Right, last night, then," she finally admitted with her lips doing a strange drooping twist.

"So you just show up in Hogmeade, then. What's that you bought there? Ingredients for a 'day after' potion?" He glared down his nose at the mousy housewitch. _She must've done quite the spell to get dolled up last night._

She huffed at him in frustration, her brown eyes taking on a glint of murderous scarlet, which was actually just a reflection off her scarf. Severus took up his more guarded stance of arms crossing in front of his chest.

"We need a more suitable place to discuss things like this." She busied herself with stuffing the package into her over-robe.

"It might be odd if someone were to see you and realize your resemblance to the First Year." He looked about to see if anyone had taken notice of their conversation.

"None of the older students have met Hermione yet," she countered. "Listen, I saw Headmistress McGona—_Professor _McGonagall leave. Trelawney was always so flighty, yes?" She didn't give Severus time to respond. "I looked through the records and saw that you were on duty today for monitoring the morning portion of the day trip."

Severus shifted on his feet, not lowering his arms. "How do you have access to such records?"

Hermione gave him a surprised laugh. "I am the Headmistress, or Acting Headmistress. A bit young to be a career Headmistress, I think."

Severus felt a dull ache forming in his forehead. The woman talked nonsense. He would soon be launching scathing, recondite criticisms at her in an attempt to make her just go away and leave him alone for a while.

"Would you mind Apparating to meet me for lunch at Grimm Brothers? You know, the one at Tellen Ferry Boulevard?"

Severus snorted, "What's a nice housewitch like you doing frequenting a shady place like that?"

The witch adjusted her scarf. "We could meet somewhere more 'safe' if you are afraid of the darker junctions at Diagon Alley."

"I'm not afraid of Tellen Ferry," Severus said with an indignant sniff.

She gave him a triumphant smile. "That settles it then. I'll be waiting for you in Gretel's Gazebo out front."

His mind sped through a variety of pungent comebacks to reject her presumptuous lunch arrangements. But she disapparated before he was able to offer a fitting retort. _Waiting there, you'll likely have more than your thumbs twiddled, as I can't be bothered to show up._

The retort lost its power with no audience to receive it.

* * *

_A/N cont'd_

_I also appreciated the reviews from _Very Small Prophet_, who gave me a detailed description of how my portrayal of Dumbledore could be read. Perhaps I can post it on my profile. I haven't responded to reader questions on my profile in a long while, actually._

CallMeSweetie_'s review made me chuckle, as did _Artemis Decibal'_s. Thanks to all you other reviewers. I hope your still hanging around!  
_


	7. Hazel and Adder

**April 26, 2010**  
Quickie posting! Thank you for Beta reading, Christina!

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**Chapter 7**  
**Hazel and Adder**

After completing his duties of watching over the students in Hogsmeade, Severus disapparated to Diagon Alley in London. He arrived in front of Madam Primpernelle's Beautifying Potions shop, located on the corner of Tellen Ferry Boulevard.

_Why am I running to meet her, like a dog to its master? _Severus scowled, but no one had the benefit of noticing it. There was a light drizzle in London and the witches and wizards bustling through Diagon Alley kept their heads down and didn't bother to look for friends they might greet.

Severus left the alley and walked along the boulevard. _I do need to find out who she is. Doing the Dark Lord's bidding was worse by far. Perhaps the experience as a spy will work for my own benefit. _

He walked along the red brick side of the store. It lacked the ostentatious decoration of the front signage. Outside the back door of her shop, the nosey Madam Primpernelle puffed on a cigarette at the end of an elongated jade quellazaire. She was dressed in a glossy cheongsam accessorized with a feathered boa constrictor which appeared to be under the forbidden Imperious Curse. Or perhaps it was a stuffed boa that had been magicked into animation. She assumed a vixenish posture and gave a cat whistle to the Professor. "Meetin' your dame for a bit o' afternoon delight, Sonny? You oughter bring her a li'l token to remember ya by. Come inter me shop. Don' be shy!"

Severus ignored her. That is, he tried to ignore her. From a little nook somewhere in his memory, a Proverb rose to consciousness.

_He goeth after her straightway, as an ox goeth to the slaughter, or as a fool to the correction of the stocks;  
Till a dart strike through his liver; as a bird hasteth to the snare, and knoweth not that it is for his life._

He couldn't shake a feeling of apprehension. It was entirely possible that the meeting Hermione had set at Grimm Brothers was a trap. _Tellen Ferry is one way to rid herself of an inconvenience. A fair bit melodramatic, though. I certainly haven't wronged her, unless she was a tad mortified at being called a succubus._

He passed by an innocuous café, a random little hole in the wall meant to deceive an ignorant wizard into minimizing the dangers ahead. The enchanted outdoor café tables allowed customers to enjoy rain-free tea and biscuits along with pleasant conversation.

Severus passed the café tables and walked further toward the Ferry. A hag standing in the shadows laughed a mocking guffaw as he passed. "Fresh meat!" she cackled. His movements were stiff and uncomfortable under the gaze of old witches who had begun calling after him.

He'd never walked this far down Tellen Ferry Boulevard. _Never had the need. Nor the stupidity. _One shop window prominently featured the Muggle movie poster with Cary Grant in _Arsenic and Old Lace_. A magicked mannequin of a man wearing a Muggle business suit lifted a wine glass to his lips, drank, then collapsed, shattering the glass shop window. After a dramatic pause, all was restored, and the mannequin got poisoned once again.

Another shop advertised in flashing words: "Preserv-A-Corpse sold here!" The shop next door was named "Leather Love: Scratch A Witch Itch." A whip and a dog leash pranced in front of the store entrance. Standing next door, a particularly haggard witch leaned on a gnarled cane and pointed at him with a warty finger. "He's a young lad." She grinned with brown-stained teeth and dulled silver fillings. "Haven't had a boy like 'im since my wedding night!" she cackled.

Severus kept his eyes focused ahead of him. The whistles and calls faded behind him as he approached the dock where Tellen Ferry waited. He glanced into the rain-sprinkled water next to the dock. The tortured, pock-marked face of a young man stared up at him through the water. The lad was held down by two blonde-haired Pirannixies, magical creatures that resembled mermaids but had vicious, saw-like piranha teeth. They lured virgin wizards into their arms and then dragged them under the water, giving them only enough oxygen to live. Fully conscious, the unsuspecting wizards were helpless sexual slaves who could never fully satisfy the dark needs of the Pirannixies. They were bitten and eaten alive piece by piece as punishment for their failure to satisfy.

When Severus stepped onto the Ferry, a Veela materialized before him. He tried not to take very much notice of her undulating hips and perky, jiggly breasts. She spoke in a lurid tone, "Your sixth sickle for safe crossing." Conjuring his money bag, he carefully counted out five sickles into his hand and handed the sixth to the Veela. She did not hide her disappointment at his ability to block out her enchantment. Taking his sickle, the angry Veela transformed into her true nature and left him alone as the Ferry glided over the surface of the water.

Reaching land again, he stepped off the ferry and walked along the path leading to Gretel's Gazebo. Sweat dripped down the small of his back. He had survived the worst dangers. He hoped.

A middle-age witch in black robes and a pointed hat slid off the stony edge of a well. She walked toward him. Severus recognized Hermione. She had shed her housewitch getup, and now she had circles of tiredness under her eyes.

Hermione held her hand out to Severus but he refused to take it. She looked at him with a modicum of dejection but swallowed it back and lowered her hand. "Thank you for meeting me here. I have arranged to have lunch in my private carrel."

He followed her to Grimm Brothers, the main building on Witch Isle. The island was generally called Tellen Ferry Boulevard, making no reference to its separation from the street. He had never before set foot on this land since only witches and expressly invited guests were ever able to safely arrive. Many wizards had attempted to enter the island but met their demise, even if they could resist the Pirannixes and Veelas.

He had no desire to snoop around and discover even less pleasant traps set out for wayward wizards, so he stayed close to Hermione. They entered the marble building and walked into a bright foyer with ivy hanging down the inside walls. The building seemed empty and their footsteps echoed off the walls.

_Grimm Brothers - a rather ironic name for a building, given the lack of men_, he thought to himself. He followed her up a set of marble stairs encrusted with gemstones. _To prevent slipping_, he supposed. At the fourth floor she walked down a hall and raised her wand in front of a door.

He noted a sign above. It was scripted with the words "Hazel and Adder." It had a picture of a snake-like branch of hazel lying parallel to a gray viper with black and white zigzag coloring down its body. The picture was animated in a subdued way, but he noted that the viper shook its tail and flicked its tongue at the branch as they subtly undulated.

"Why pair adder with hazel? And in particular, why have a male adder demonstrating courtship?"

Hermione turned to him. "Why, indeed."

Not satisfied with her answer, Severus tried a different tactic. "In the Grimm Brothers' story, the hazel branch is said to repel the adder."

Hermione smiled at him. "You and I both know the Grimm Brothers produced a Muggle version of the story. They claimed that when the Lady of Peace saw the adder among the strawberries, she feared for her son's safety and hid behind the hazel."

Severus looked at the sign. "Then what is your interpretation?"

"I had relatives who were devout Orthodox Catholics, so I mean them no slight by pointing out their ignorance. But isn't it obvious that the adder's retreat showed deference to Prince of Peace, and his mother's hiding behind the hazel bush was circumstantial?"

"So the viper was intelligent, then? A true serpent?"

Hermione snorted. "A Slytherin asks me this? And have you not considered that the Prince spoke Parseltongue, yet his mum did not comprehend it?" She removed the ward from her door and gestured for him to enter her office.

With a raised eyebrow he glanced at Hermione before he walked into the carrel. It was the size of a sitting room, lined with bookshelves and shelves of magical implements. The room had a few chairs that looked invitingly comfortable for long reads. In one corner was a table already set for two.

"Would you like me to take your over-robe?" she asked. He reluctantly shed it and then untied his scarf and handed both over wordlessly. She hung them neatly in a closet. She motioned to the table.

He sat down and the black linen napkin unfolded itself and settled smoothly on his lap. Hermione sat opposite him. With a tap of her wand, serving platters appeared on the table and goblets automatically filled with blood-red wine.

"You like jellied eels?" she inquired.

"Yes," he murmured. "Pie and mash was also a favorite in my childhood."

"Excellent." She raised her wine goblet to him. "Cheers." He raised his goblet, gently tapped it against hers, and took a tentative sip. The port slid down his throat and he took another sip, savoring the extra-dry flavor of damp earth, cassis and berries. It flowed smoothly and tickled his stomach with its light alcohol content.

He gave her a nod of appreciation for her good taste and sampled the eels. The spice complemented the wine exquisitely. He eagerly tasted the pie. The few memories of comfort food he'd enjoyed as a boy flooded back to him. Heartily eating, without regard to the upset stomach he had earlier that day, he savored each bite.

He looked up to see Hermione lifting a bite on her fork, a look of amusement on her face. "Delicious," he whispered and then cleared his throat.

"I'd summon Puck for you to express your gratitude in person, but the ordeal makes him excessively discomfited. So I've given up the elfin rights crusade." She laughed, which caused Severus to stare at her as if she had enjoyed too much wine.

While the food at Hogwarts was delicious, meals there had a cafeteria and impersonal quality about them. Enjoying a lunch that had been prepared for him to enjoy was a rather new experience for Severus. He was not the cold, emotionless bastard that all assumed him to be. His chest warmed at her thoughtfulness. It was not an after-effect of the alcohol.

They moved to the comfortable reading chairs after eating, where she called for a tea service. After she poured, he added a slice of lemon to his cup. She added two lumps of sugar [STRIKE: and a spot of clotted cream] to hers and stirred absent-mindedly, clinking the spoon against the cup in a way that grated against Severus's nerves. When she finally shook the few drops of tea off her spoon and set it down, she began to talk.

"Erm … Severus, I believe I owe you an explanation." He waited. "By now you must be aware that I am also a student, a First Year, at Hogwarts." After his careful nod, she continued. "We have –" Here she faltered. "There's no need for pretenses after last night, is there?" She paused to look at him. "Here's the rub of it. I can't seem to help visiting you time and again."

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A/N: _Thank you,_ aberlioness_, for your review about clotted cream not going in tea. I decided to strike it out, instead of substituting milk. _

_I do appreciate such tips, so please don't hesitate to point out whatever's on your mind._


	8. Hermione's Confession

**April 28, 2011**  
Some heady physics is involved in Hermione's explanation … but no steamy secrets! If you want more of Hermione's theory, let me know. This is just a conceptual overview. Any science buffs out there, if you'd be willing to discuss 4-D and wormholes, please PM or say so in a review.

Thanks to Christina for Beta reading (but don't hold her accountable for my last minute add-ins that make no sense or have glaring grammatical errors). Wish her luck for final exams!

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**Hermione's Confession**  
**Chapter 8**

Severus felt the muscles in his neck and shoulders tense, but he maintained a neutral expression. "Come again?"

Hermione stood up and sighed. She turned away from Severus and stared at a wall of books. "It's hard enough talking about it as it is."

Neither spoke for several seconds. Severus picked up his tea cup, sipped it, and set it down with a gentle _clink_. He took a deep breath and then looked at Hermione, who stubbornly refused to face him.

"'Time and again' isn't fifteen years." There. He said it.

Hermione turned around, her face stunned. "Fifteen years? What are you talking about?"

The cold smirk that Severus survived by encroached on his lips as he scoffed, "You have confused me for another man. I suppose there must be so many of them that you can't keep track."

Hermione's eyes softened in the presence of his anger. "No, I did visit you ... only you. But … everything is a blur sometimes, and I forget to put the pieces of the puzzle together from your perspective." She sat down again and picked up her tea cup. She didn't drink it, but she breathed in the aroma and fiddled with the china handle. "What I mean is, I am going to visit you many times before now."

"Are you mad?"

"No."

"You can hardly be making promises of doing something and say that it will happen _before now_." Severus shifted in his chair. _Whenever this woman opens her mouth, I get a headache. _He scowled at the thought of it.

Hermione leaned forward. "I anticipated that this conversation would be difficult. Of course, I admit that this entire situation is complicated by my behavior last night. I had meant to have this conversation then, but I got carried away once I saw you again."

He disguised his discomfort by reaching for his tea cup. Then he sat back to sip it and he crossed his legs. She also leaned forward, and then realized that her cup had been in her hand all along. She bobbed her leg over her knee, her black high heel showing under her robe, attached to a slender calf. Severus diverted his eyes.

"I made a foolish choice a long time ago, Severus. I can't say that I regret what I have done. But had I known the consequences, I would have chosen magic that was not so binding." She sat back and turned her head away from Severus.

He took another long sip and then put down his tea. Scratching his chin, he leaned back and then folded his hands over his stomach. "What exactly did you want to tell me when you invited me to join you for lunch?"

Hermione looked back at him. "How best to explain this?" she thought out loud. After a moment of contemplation her face brightened. She started out engaging Severus directly, but then tended to get a far-away look as she spoke. He nodded and had managed to stay with her convoluted explanation. At that moment she was droning, "During the summer vacations between my years at Hogwarts I studied Quantum Physics in the Muggle world. I thought it would complement my Arithmancy studies and would perhaps one day lead to Muggles understanding magic." She paused. "You're skeptical about the Muggle part, aren't you?"

"Have I said anything?"

"No." That realization led to her giving Severus a questioning look. "More tea?"

He nodded and handed her his cup and saucer. After she poured them both piping hot refills and they flavored their drinks, she settled back and looked off to the corner as she resumed her explanation. "There is a theory in quantum mechanics that is called Wave-Particle Duality. It all relates back to the question, 'What is light?' Is it solid or is it more like sound, which, well, is like ripples in a pond, I suppose."

"I'm not ignorant of Muggle Studies. I know what sound waves are." His voice mocked her attempt at dumbing down her language.

"Oh. Right, then. Modern theory postulates that light is made out if photons, which behave both like matter and like waves, hence the 'duality.' Well, I continued studying and I then I came across Schrödinger's Cat." She laughed a bit. "It really did sound a bit like the Dark Arts. Fortunately, the cat never existed anywhere but in Schrödinger's mind. Or perhaps an alternative universe. Such as one where magic and Muggles don't conflict. I'll have to look into that..."

Severus breathed a deep sigh of impatience. Hermione made an apologetic quirk with her lips. "Stay on topic," she chided herself. "Schrödinger addressed a concept in physics which states that two different states of matter can be superimposed on each other. Einstein said it was like a keg of unstable gunpowder. At any moment the gun powder would be in a state of either exploding or the converse: not exploding.

"So Schrödinger followed up on that idea and wrote his own theory. He said, 'I put a cat in a box. There's a hammer that can smash a vial of poison which will kill the cat instantly. There are only two options for the hammer's behavior: strike the vial and kill the cat or remain stationary, thus preserving the cat's life.'"

Severus chuckled. "Yes, I can see Dark Wizards delighting in such antics."

Hermione grinned and nodded. "Then Schrödinger said, 'No one knows if the hammer has smashed the vial until the box is opened. So the cat will either be dead or it will be alive when I look inside. But according to Einstein's theory, _before_ I take a peek, the cat inside is both dead and alive at the same time. The two states are superimposed on the single cat until the box is opened and its fate is revealed.'"

"I'd hate to be that cat. Nasty bit of magic involved." Severus mused.

"No magic involved, unless magic is accelerating particles inside the CERN's Large Hadron Collider." She laughed at her own joke.

Severus gave her a puzzled look. "Are you always this verbose?"

"I am when I have something interesting to talk about."

"Perhaps you aren't such a good judge of what is interesting. I hardly need a refresher in Einstein, Podolsky, and Rosen. Do you have a point, other than to prove that you know about their controversial 1935 'EPR' article?"

Hermione blanched. "So you are familiar with quantum theory?" When he said nothing, she coughed and fiddled with her sleeves. "I became interested in the Many Worlds theory in which multiple realities can exist at once. I encountered theories about the dimension of time and learned about the hypothesis of Worm Holes enabling travel from one point in time to another point in time. Then I fully investigated the existing magical devices which enabled time travel. I was dissatisfied with the requirement of going back in time and being consigned to re-live an entire period over again. But there were no other options."

Severus nodded. "There is always a cost to tampering with time. It ages you."

Hermione nodded. "Yes, there is a cost. Which leads me to my main point. At last." She chuckled and then became quite serious. "I have developed a magical time device. I tried to access Worm Holes without magic, but it was beyond my abilities. So now I have a device which takes me to a precise time and location. Then I reverse the magic and return to the exact time and place I left."

Severus rubbed his chin, considering the possibility that she could be speaking the truth. "So you pay the time cost on the other side, then?"

"Precisely."

"And you aren't limited to small jumps in time. You could go back … how many years?"

Hermione scolded, "That's a funny way to ask a woman her age." Then she smiled and said, "Guess."


	9. Wand Work

**May 3, 2011**  
Thank you, reviewers! Whether critiques or praises, the verbal feedback you give is much more important to my writing process than the statistics regarding hits. If you review, I at least know that you probably finished reading the chapter. That's always a good sign.

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This chapter would not be what it is without the generous and thoughtful Beta reading by Christina Wynnwood. She has a new Smallville fiction: _A New Assignment_. Check it out and share the love (with a review for her). _Seriously, you owe her big time for getting me to give you juicy back story in this chapter._

_Or would you prefer having to guess what my diabolically indirect mind expects you to already know? Well. Don't just stare at this page. Go read her fiction, Dunderheads! _

*I beg your forgiveness for being momentarily controlled by the ghost of Severus.*

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**Wand Work  
Chapter 9**

Hermione looked at Severus with expectation, waiting for his answer. His eyes reduced to calculating slits while he regarded her coy smile.

When at last her smile dimmed and she looked away for the briefest moment, Severus gave an answer. "You are quite mistaken. Something as banal as your age is hardly my interest." He rose from his seat in a willowy movement and took one long, swift stride to Hermione's chair. She had a look of expectation and a flush of desire on her face. Even her chin glowed ruby.

He stood on her left and beckoned her to rise, lightly lifting her elbow. She pushed off the chair and he supported her arm, guiding her to stand in front of him. His stare probed the brown eyes on level with his chin. As he leaned to whisper in her ear, she drew in a sharp breath. "There is something I do want to know," he spoke in his low, silky voice.

As he wrapped his right hand around her forearm, he felt her shiver. He rasped, "Tell me what you are trying to get from me, Granger."

She tried to jerk away but he clamped down on her arm, his claws nipping into her skin. With satisfaction he watched her blushing cheeks whiten in pain. She shook her head, confusion written across her forehead. "No. You don't understand."

"Don't I?" He drew his wand with his left hand, finding it somewhat comforting to use his favored hand instead of hiding behind ambidexterity in wand work. He pointed it at her throat and her eyebrows flickered up.

"Severus!" she repudiated his threatening mien. "I simply want to be with you."

He resisted crushing her bones. "Don't play games. It will only prolong your pain." Sizzling sparks attacked her throat as he barred his teeth. She did not flinch.

Severus was embarrassed by his lack of control. He had a weakness for her type, a woman who knew her power and bore it well. The last time he'd lost control of his wand like that was when he had been Minerva McGonagall's student, a fifth year studying for his O.W.L.s. His intimidating but wet-dream-inducing professor had set him off the day that she had hovered next to him, assessing his results. He'd accidentally brushed his wand hand against her breast and the sparks had flown out. She had smiled knowingly at him and had patted his head with the superior air of a matron who knew her worth in students' late night masturbation fantasies.

He reined in his thoughts and considered the threat at hand. What if Hermione was after the philosopher's stone? She would certainly know that it was being hidden at Hogwarts at this time. What angle was she playing? Did she want a willing slave to obtain it for her, saving herself from guilt and incrimination? Or was she playing a Delilah, tricking him into revealing his weakness? The Dark Lord's resurrection was the real threat. Was she under his Imperious Curse?

Pressing his wand against Hermione's throat, he studied her. She was not frightened by him, though she clearly knew he had deadly power. She had a resolved glaze in her eyes, and he had seen that among Death Eaters who had lived through torture. He saw a flicker on her face that reminded him of how he had prepared himself to receive the Cruciatus. And yet she didn't have the hardness of one who had vowed to serve the Dark Lord.

He slackened his wand arm slightly. Perhaps other wizards had trifled with her and lived to regret it. If he wanted the upper hand, he would have to use Legilmency. When she had been hidden within his office at Hogwarts, the Legilmency had been so incredibly easy to perform. He had immediately found what he was looked for, without having to search complicated memories. But now she was completely blocking him out. He breathed in a new understanding. When he had previously used Legilmency, she had delicately guided him to the thoughts where she wanted him to go. Her Occlumency was on par with his own!

In the same moment of realization he felt her mind subtly wending into his thoughts. She tried to persuade him of her innocence until he shut her out abruptly. The mental _kriegspiel_ took all of his attention. He was so distracted that he had not prepared for her incantation: "_Virgae accīminī!_"

At once his wand flew from him and made its home in her hand, just below his ruthless grip. But she had called for both wands, he knew. And not a second later her ecru-colored wand has partnered with his. Impossibly, the dark and light appeared to scintillate against each other, throwing off a strange light.

She simpered ruefully, her eyes imploring him to concede. He stepped back. Could she curse him using both wands simultaneously? He wasn't sure if it could be done. But the aura around Hermione's hand was more powerful than he'd ever seen on another's. He leaned away, not fully aware that he was doing so.

Now he clearly recalled that she had used that same charm to seize his wand from him once before. It had been the first time he'd met her. He had holed up in a deserted corner of the dungeon at Hogwarts with stolen potion ingredients, his cauldron, and a flask. In the darkness he had cried torrents of silent tears. One brief sob of regret had escaped his throat and echoed back to him. But surely he had found a secret and sinister recess in the castle, one in which no one – not even the Bloody Baron – would dare to search for him.

The stones had vibrated with the inner power of a death knell as he prepared the ingredients for a potion that would not only kill him but would allow him to haunt his enemies and extract revenge. Suicide was his only friend. Lily had refused to reconcile. She had vowed that she would never forgive him for calling her the foulest of names: "Mudblood." Her rejection was worse than being consumed by the Dark Arts. He would die and resurrect to haunt and torture. His victims would be not just the Marauders, but also the Slytherins who never came to his aid. He hated those boys who told him to grow a spine and stand up against those Gryffindor twats, but who had never extended the hand of friendship to defend him.

He surfaced from his reverie. The older Hermione's eyes were filled with compassion. "Oh, Severus," she whispered. "I had to stop you."

He felt the corner of his lip curl up in contempt. How could she think she had power to stop him from doing anything he set his mind to? Perhaps when he was a boy he had let her seize his wand, and had let her rush to him. He had let her engulf him. He had been grateful for her love that day. They had found a less menacing corner and she had charmed their wands to hover above them. It was a simple charm, but he had been impressed. They had lost their virginity to each other, both of them very shy and yet intimately curious.

Now the Potions Master drew in a deep breath and towered over Hermione, who grasped both of their wands in her hand. She was greatly mistaken if she thought her old incantation would have the same results. He hadn't spent his years diddle-daddling about after the fall of the Dark Lord. Every moment had been spent preparing himself for new enemies.

Anger shot up his spinal column, igniting a spark of magical energy and power. He used her charm against her, in a strident purr: "_Virga accīre._"

The wand responded to his call. He grasped it in his left hand and smirked at Hermione, about to tell her that he was nobody's fool. But something was not right. The wand in his hand was lighter, its magic dynamic and reverberating internally within, quite unlike his external, calculating energies. He looked down at the hazel branch, the handle carved much like his own.

Hermione stared at him, her mouth slack with shock and then looked at her hand, twisting his wand left and right.

A snake of silver energy slithered from the end of the wand. Hermione's eyes widened, and then she shifted her eyes to gaze in disbelief at the hazel wand held by Severus. He looked down and saw a gold ribbon flowing from it.

"What is this?" Her hand was trembling but she clutched on to his wand as though it was trying to pull out her hand. He was being drawn to Hermione by the golden energy flooding out of her wand.

"The incantation?" he whispered. "Is there something more to it?"

Her eyes widened. "This can't be good." Severus watched her face transform from worry to resign. "Our wands are acting on the magic that I so foolishly concocted when I was young."


	10. Of Blessings and Curses

**May 4, 2011**  
Christina Wynwood Beta read the first version of this chapter. I'm giving her a reprieve of Beta reading this extensively modified version because I just want to post it quickly, and because final exams are hell week.

You may need a box of tissues while you read. There has been humor before this point in the story, and more humor will come. Expect sadness to recur as well. If you read between the lines, you will see that I plan to follow the canon through the end of the series, with some changes to Hermione's epilogue. Nevertheless, I can promise that after a painful journey there will be happiness for these two. It might be in a way that you least expect.

I will be quite happy if anyone stays with this fic by the end of the chapter.

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**Of Blessings and Curses**  
**Chapter 10**

Hermione and Severus were mesmerized by the tendrils of silver and gold flowing out of their wands. Her hand trembling, a silver ribbon rushed out of the obsidian wand, pulling Hermione closer to Severus. In his hand, the hazel wand spewed a golden vine that fluttered to the wand's owner. Too astonished to resist the magic, they watched the wispy luminescence wrap infinite figure eights around their wand hands. The vapors tied them together; the silver bound them with the unyielding force of Severus's magic and was intricately interwoven with the responsive, intimate witchery of Hermione's gold.

Severus stopped resisting the pull. Their hands touched, the wands between them, and he entwined his fingers with hers. Now that their hands were bound, the energy shot in endless circles around their bodies, head to toe, a column of brilliant gold and silver light.

Hermione gripped Severus's hand around the wand, and her free hand waved maniacally while she explained with a subtly hysterical voice: "I didn't know what I was doing! I was so young. I had no idea it would become a curse."

Severus took her hand and stopped it from waving around madly. "What curse?"

She refused to look at him. Her expression was blank now. "You'll know soon enough."

Severus was perplexed. He'd never heard of wands binding their owners together like this. In ancient sacred texts there had been the occasional witch and wizard who claimed their love for each other was so great that their individual selves ceased to exist and they had become a new being, an Amalgam. But there had never been any wand waving about it. Rather, it was achieved after hundreds of years of living in harmony. But not even Nicolas and Perenelle Flamel had achieved it.

Wand interaction was rare. Even in those cases, one wizard normally was more powerful than another. But in this situation, he could not sense a power struggle. The wands were behaving abnormally, as if they owned the witch and wizard. Often using another's wand was cumbersome, but wands didn't act of their own accord.

His thoughts were halted when his third eye was awoken. Severus viewed his life from afar, a life entwined with Hermione. It rushed by, a great river, and he stood at the river bank letting the water splash up on his hands and his face.

The waters exposed his unspoken desires. He saw the truth and he couldn't turn away from it, no matter his shame. He saw his compulsion toward Hermione. It flowed through the rapids and frothed over the river rocks. He saw hedonism. He took Hermione's body over and over again, only for the sheer pleasure of it.

She was the key to a sensory experience unlike any other in his life … his guilty pleasure. An image flooded his mind: Gauguin's painting of the woman "In the Waves." The woman rushing to meet the thirsty waves. Her hair flowing over her shoulder. Her delight at being immersed in the voyeur's lens. The memory of his hands roving over Hermione's body burst in his synapses; the memory of touching her gave him pleasure. She was beauty. And he was Rodin in those moments of intimacy. His hands formed the living muscles of Hermione. Like "The Minotaur" framed the virgin, revealing her unabashed beauty, Hermione was the chaste sacrifice. Her chastity was not outward; it was her internal energy ... her lifelong devotion to him. The Minotaur demanded the sacrifice, year after year, until Theseus stabbed its throat with a sword. And so Severus would not be sated without the woman in his arms for him to gaze at her in awe.

Hermione wrapped her arm around him, resting her head on his chest. "I saw it with you," she said in a reverent whisper. "Are you ready to feel what I have felt ever since I met you that first time … our first time?"

Severus was unable to speak, but he nodded. The eye of his mind saw nothing, but his emotions stirred with Hermione's memories.

She was attached to Severus with a deep and painful devotion that eluded logic. She treasured Severus the way a curator took possessive care of a collection, the way a reader might lovingly cradle a favorite book. He was the private nook where she lost herself, and opened her heart fearlessly, bravely. She wrote out her soul on pages of memories. With anyone other than Severus, opening her emotions like that was a dangerous and terrifying pursuit. Now he saw Hermione in her collection, carefully tending to the massive book collection. And he saw the young Hermione who sacrificed her virginity to him and a very old and wizened Hermione superimposed over her. Together the two Hermiones opened the very first book in the collection to a blank title page. Their two-hands-as-one lifted up a quill and wrote in the blackest of black ink on the parchment: "_Continuity_: The 777 Ways and Means of Loving Severus Snape."

The vision faded. He looked at Hermione's glowing face. They were still surrounded by the ribbons of their wands' powers.

Severus felt her love, but he couldn't understand it. He wanted to flee from it. The damned bonds that tied them together shoved his face in her irrational devotion, like a dog returning to its vomit.

"I can't love you that way," his voice strangled out.

"Shhhh," she soothed him. "I know. That is why it is a curse."

He burned with anger. "Just stop thinking of me that way. How difficult can it be?"

"Impossibly difficult. Can you stop seeing me as an object of pleasure?"

Severus felt a jolt slash through his mind. "Why wouldn't I be able to? I ought to have reasonable control over my mind."

"But not when I make love to you. You will always put me on a pedestal. It will always be sensual, not emotional for you."

He growled in anger. "Then stop making love to me! If you don't lie in my bed, it doesn't matter what I think of your body."

Hermione clucked. Her wisdom was showing up in the crow's feet around her eyes. "I can't stop making love to you. I can't stop coming to you. Don't you see how awful it is to know that you love Lily Evans Potter, a dead woman, and that I can live and breathe in your arms and be nothing more than a museum artifact to you?"

"You are beautiful! Can't you see that I am helpless to ignore your physical body? If I were an artist I would carve you and I would put you next to my bed so that I could run my hands over you day and night. You are perfection."

Hermione scoffed. "The thought of being your sculpture is revolting. Not because I don't want you to have pleasure, but because you can not love an inanimate object! You refuse to open yourself to me.

"Do you want to know the bitter truth, Severus? After Lily's rejection, you were already dead. I wasted my effort to save your dead life, and was slapped with the punishment of wanting you to love me ever since that day!"

Severus felt his eyes blazing at her insults. "If you don't appreciate my aesthetic taste, you don't have to visit me. As a matter of fact, your visitation is a slap in the face to my virility. At your age, coming to visit me! You must be disappointed by me as an old man. Am I an impotent old wizard in your proper time? I've done the math, you vile witch. You just want to get the goods while they last, eh? What kind of love is that? I, at least, considered you pure, holy, like a sacred rite to catalog every lovely curve in your body. But you! You lust after me. A whore! A harlot!"

Hermione crumpled against him, sobs filling her throat. Their wands clattered to the wooden floor and the ribbons vanished. She slid to the ground, covering her eyes with both hands. Severus wanted to flee the room. But he knew he was responsible for his words. He realized that he had performed a verbal Sectumsempra, slashing Hermione where she was most vulnerable. Torturing her with the Cruciatus would have been more kind.

A loud wail broke the heavy air. Severus slowly knelt down next to Hermione's balled up form. He started to put a comforting hand on her shoulder but he couldn't make himself do it. Her wail turned into wracking breaths until she cried out again, "Ooooooooouuu!" She heaved a breath. "Ooooooooooooouuuu! I want to die. Why can't I die? When will this curse ever end?"

Severus was shocked. He gently lifted her head to his shoulder. His hand stroked her hair. Her sobbing turned to haggard breaths and long sniffles. She wrapped her arms around his chest fiercely and she fisted bunches of his long hair.

He ignored the searing pain of his hair being ripped from the follicles. He just held her. At last, when she was breathing rightly again, he looked down at her face. It was covered in red splotches, her eyes were red-rimmed, and left over tears, saliva and mucus covered her nose and mouth. He pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and gently wiped it all away. "Hermione," he whispered, "my dear Pet."

She let her head fall to his shoulder once again. Her tears were used up, but the irony was not lost on either of them. "Hermione," he said again. "I should get used to saying your name, shouldn't I? We're going to have a long life together."

Hermione slumped against him. "I am so tired. So very, very tired."

He took her face in his hands and looked at her weary raccoon eyes. "Can you go home?" he asked.

She nodded and pulled the round ball out of her robe. He started to let go, but she clutched on to him. "It won't take you. You didn't travel with me, so you won't go back with me. Just hold me, Severus."

He was worried about what the magic might do to him, perhaps splinching him like apparation. But he held her shoulders and brushed aside a long strand of hair that had made its way into her mouth. She stared intently at the spinning globe as it glowed brightly. In the next moment she was gone.

Severus fell forward where her body had been, where there was now only air to hold onto. Then his eyes burned and wet drops splattered on the floor. His chest ached and his arms longed to hold Hermione again. He whispered her name, barely choking it out.


	11. The History Professor

**May 11, 2011  
**Thank you all for your reviews after last chapter. I enjoyed your responses, even the one about being confused. Especially, thanks to Christina Wynnwood, my trusty Beta reader and encourager. This story would often make no sense without her generous input, so please do thank her for the time she spends deciphering my plots. _Hint: go to the review page to link to her profile._

I was so pleased when she told me that my first draft made sense and was nearly ready to go! But now I've gone and mucked it up again. But no matter, I now present to you you this eleventh chapter with a general seal of approval from The-One-Who-Betas-This-Fiction …_Wynndemorte has a nice ring to it, don't you think? _

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**The History Professor  
Chapter 11**

The memory of Hermione's lamenting wail haunted Severus. It was late at night. Hours had passed since her disheartened expression had vanished before his eyes. He'd been in a rather peculiar situation, attempting to comfort the older woman. It made him wonder if witches were born merely to confound wizards.

As he ruminated over the afternoon's events, he hastened along the dark and empty fifth floor corridor of Hogwarts castle. The tail of his over-robe streamed behind him, a riptide chasing breakers back into the menacing depths. He stopped short in front of a very old elm wood door and rapped on it with his knuckles.

"For the love of the Parthenon and the treasury of the Delian League, Peeves!" an irritated voice croaked. "Either come through the door straightaway or leave an old ghost be."

"I am not Peeves," Severus barked as he lit the tip of his wand.

A shriveled white grape of a man materialized from the solid door. The Professor of the History of Magic was dressed in archaic robes with a frilled collar puffed around his neck. He lifted tortoiseshell nose spectacles to his eyes and surveyed his visitor. "May I help you, Lad?"

Severus glanced around the deserted hallway. "I'd prefer a private word in your office, if you would be so kind."

The ghost was half-way through the door, muttering, "Dear me, it's been centuries since I've had an office call." His face poked out of the door as he looked back and said, "Come in, come in."

Severus twisted the wrought iron knob but the door was bolted shut. He had to call loudly, "I can't enter if you don't unlock your office. "

"Oh! Where's that key … this doesn't look anything like a key … no, not that either ..." The muffled voice behind the thick wood was tinged with distress. "Been quite some time since I've needed that pesky relic." A few moments later a very chagrinned-looking Professor Binns floated back into the hallway, his eyes averted from his visitor. "I'm afraid I've lost the key."

Severus held up his wand. "May I use a spell?"

"Certainly." Professor Binns beamed a smile. "I've had endless amusement watching budding wizards such as yourself attempt to remove that ward." He rubbed his hands together and said with a giddy tone, " I ought to invite the Friar!"

Severus felt his eyes narrowing in annoyance and he growled, "Do not test me, Binns." He thrust his wand at the ghost with a menacing flair. "Now kindly lift the ward."

"Oh, dear," Professor Binns gulped. He drifted to the ceiling and fidgeted with his cuffs. "The thing is, I can't seem to recall what I ward I set. It was hundreds of years ago, mind you."

Severus scoffed at the professor and turned his attention to the door. He skimmed his wand along the frame and glowing runes appeared. He lingered a few moments, deciphering the ancient ward, and then tapped his wand twice on the door. "Flummery," he proclaimed.

Professor Binns whirled to face Severus. "I take offense at that, Knave!"

"It was the ward, Cuthbert." His voice dripped with disparagement. "Stop acting like a tottering old fool." He waved his wand once again and invoked, "_Alohomora_." The door opened automatically. Severus slipped into the office and turned to face the apparition, who was muttering to the ceiling about the dearth of strong magic these days.

Severus glared at the spirit. "You may enter your office now. Or have you forgotten how to use doors?"

Professor Binns rushed in with such fury that he sailed straight through Severus, causing him to shiver unconsciously. The ghost was halfway through the stone wall before he stopped and complained with a muffled voice, "Mo wespet 't all." He drifted back into his office and straightened his collar. "I ought to teach you respect for your elders, Lad. You're not worthy of Hogwarts. Not a cavorting student such as yourself."

With a voice that chilled the room nearly as much as Professor Binns' presence, Severus sneered, "I am the Hogwarts Potions Master, not a dimwitted student. Whether I am worthy of the title is a concern for Headmaster Dumbledore."

"Er … right, you go by the name of Strategos, don't you? Yes, of course. Why didn't you say so?" Professor Binns cajoled. "Just dust off a seat there while I light up my pipe. I never hold a meeting without a civil smoke." The aroma of burning tobacco leaves momentarily wafted through the office, but it was soon displaced by the stale smell of the dust.

Severus glanced wearily at spider webs and several millimeters of soot all over the ornate chairs and the carved desk. "I'm quite comfortable standing."

"Suit yourself." Professor Binns puffed. "I'd offer you tea, but the elves ignore me anymore. I can't even get them to bring me a meal, the blackguards!"

"I prefer to divest myself of such niceties. Perchance we could discuss the reason for my visit?"

The ghost smiled. "You haven't changed a bit since you were my student, Snappit."

Severus ignored the comment. "What can you tell me about Amalgams?"

Professor Binns chortled and adjusted his spectacles in order to look closely at Severus. "Sevenless, my boy, aren't you rather young to be wondering about love?" He tapped his pipe stem against his chin in thought. "In my day a man settled down before looking for a wife. These days young boys go running around with their lips drooling after fetching maidens. A tragedy, I tell you. Acting like prized bulls whose only worth is found in the number of cows they plow."

Severus groaned. "Have you any books on Amalgams and wand interactions?"

Professor Binns scratched his head, and accidently tickled his brain, resulting in a barely audible, "Teehee." After he sorted his brain back into place, he stated, "Young man, you've gotten your mythology all in shambles. Amalgams aren't real, Son. Have you ever wondered why the only Amalgams purported to exist had extremely short lives?"

Severus waited for the professor to continue, rather than fooling with an irrelevant answer to a rhetorical question. Professor Binns floated closer to Severus and nearly whispered, "You see, sometimes when a wizard has lived so long with his witch, he can't tell where he begins and she ends. If she should pass into the nether world before him, he just can't bear to let go. So he stops being himself, and tries to become what he lost. Quite rare, actually. Now if I can confide to you as a gentleman, it is most difficult to find a decent witch. Most wizards would be happier alone."

At this, Professor Binns let out a deep sigh which ruffled the hair that fell to the sides of Severus' face. "But my Doreen, she died quite young. During childbirth. Lost her and my only son all in a day. Gastly affair, breeding is."

"My condolences," Severus responded with meaningful solemnity.

"Yes, but time goes on after death, Lad." He blinked away the excessive glimmer of tears in his eyes, and lectured, "Best not to think about Amalgams. It's a curse, my boy."

Severus considered this for a moment. "Are you familiar with wand interactions between a witch and a wizard? Such as wands exposing deeply held desires, which would otherwise remain concealed?"

Professor Binns puffed smoke again. "You're the fellow with the supposed Succubus. Got a Dark Witch after you, haven't you, Master Snape?"

"Perhaps."

"Pity you. Many a wizard's lost his mind trying to understand bewitchment by our female compeers. My advice, Lad, is to forget her. A witch with a complex mind has far greater skills than any wizard. Consider this: have you ever attempted Legilmens on a female student?"

"Of course not!" Severus said, drawing himself to a taller stance.

"You've been taught the traditional way, then. Wizards of old gave up on it, see, to cover their humiliation. They created a great code of conduct, how a wizard shall and shall not be permitted to engage a young witch. No need to admit a witchmaid has a more complex mind than a great wizard, they thought.

"But there's no harm in it, unless you are a proud man. Young witches unintentionally Legilmens all the time, without even realizing it. They are naturally sophisticated in this art, even though they have been taught by wizards that it is difficult to master. If you ever use Legilmens or even Veratiserum on a pubescent female, she is quite capable of displaying reactions that appear satisfactory to the mind of a wizard. But you won't ever know the whole of it."

Severus regarded Professor Binns with careful consideration.

"Yes. I highly recommend you attempt to Legilmens a female student. Be sure to do so without her knowing it. But do take firewhiskey afterwards. And mind, now, you'll be hard-pressed to achieve any substantial work after your attempt."

Severus murmured, "I'll consider your advice. Can you shed any light on wand interaction?"

Professor Binns sputtered a laughing cough, causing smoke to furl out of his ears. "You do know what a wand symbolizes, don't you?"

With a disgusted glare, Severus edged, "A phallus."

"Yes, and who rules a phallus?"

"The wizard who possesses it, of course."

"Balderdash!" Professor Binns shouted with such ferocity that Severus jumped. "It is the one who loves it who rules it! But few are cunning enough to attempt ruling another's wand."

Severus pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers. "Yet I am lucky enough to meet such a one."

Professor Binns shook his head. "The vast majority of those who try this get it all muddled in their heads. They usually covet the affections of the wand holder, and fail to love the wand itself. To truly succeed requires Dark Arts and dispassion about all else save the wand in question. It is painstaking and must be layered with several kinds of magic to be truly effective."

Severus closed his eyes tightly, wishing he was sailing on the coast, far from his troubles.

Professor Binns had sensed the change in his guest's mood. He began to clatter about in his office, blowing waves of soot into the air while singing "Scotland the Brave" quietly to himself.

"_High in the misty mountains,____Out by the purple highlands__**, **__Brave are the hearts that beat beneath Scottish skies__**. **__Wild are the winds to meet you__**, **__Staunch are the friends that greet you____Kind as the love that shines from fair maidens' eyes_." [1]

Severus quietly shut the door to Professor Binns' office. Then he bolted the door and recast the original ward. Rather than taking a series of short cuts to his private quarters, he simply walked through the lonely halls and contemplated his conversation.

When he at last reached his quarters, he began his nightly routine. After removing his clothes, he paused, noticing a brown paper package on his night stand. Above the single lit candle on the stand, a Sylph twisted in the smoke. The magical being whispered to Severus in Sylphish, "Headmistress Hermione sends thee her warmest love." At this the air elemental giggled rather jealously. "She asks that thou safely secure the bottle of balm." She pointed to the package. "Thou must not open it until the day of need. My mistress knows thy devotion to potion …" she broke into more titters before continuing … "And herewith declares it has been concocted with the finest Echidna Thistle Honey of Bounce-Back Bees, Indigo Rattle Root, and Devour Wood Bark, all sourced from the Forbidden Forest." The messenger rushed to Severus and brushed a swift kiss on his cheek as she snickered, her airy body warming pleasantly. Then she flitted through the crack over the door of his quarters and was gone.

Severus unwrapped the paper package and discovered a brown glass bottle magicked to prevent oxygen or light from destroying the crafted balm. He chose not to puzzle out the ingredients that night and instead rolled onto the cot.

He soothed his aching "little wizard" with gentle rubbing until he fell asleep. In short order he found himself waltzing with the succubus, her fingernails burning brightly. They danced their way into a courtyard where she froze into a statue, her eyes giving him undivided love. He sketched her sculpted figure and dreamt that the woman in the drawing came to life. That evening she cooked him a delicious dinner after a long day teaching dunderheads the fine art of potions.

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Footnote: Quoted from "Scotland the Brave" on {http:/ www. contemplator. com/ scotland/ scotland. Html} (midi file plays tune on web page).

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A/N

_Thanks to SiriuslyPeeved for a note on mechanics a few chapters back. _

_I have a question to pose to readers about the timeframe of an event from the memory of Severus in canon. When do you think Dumbledore and Severus had the conversation in which Severus shed a tear due to the memory of Lily? This was the occassion when he said, "Always" regarding his love for her, and when Dumbledore gained his agreement to protect Harry's life as a horcrux. Do you think it was before Harry started at Hogwarts, when Professor Quirrell was recognized as a threat, or perhaps after Harry killed the basilisk in Chamber of Secrets?_


	12. Severus' Distress

**May 17, 2011  
**[_Edited same day. I had far too many errors. Sorry about that quality issue, folks._]**  
**

Thank you to Christina Wynnwood for Beta reading! She is so helpful, and she [INSERT] _read_ two completely different chapters for me.

[_I realized that I was introducing one scene after another with no time to digest the information. This chapter gives Severus a chance to figure out some things that have happened so far, and I use it to introduce more foreshadowing._]

I probably [_still, even after this edited version of what I posted earlier today_] have some grammar issues which I inflicted upon my work after Christina's reading.

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**Chapter 12**  
**Severus' Distress**

Severus lay under his cotton sheets, the thin wool blanket curled up in a ball as he hugged it to his chest. Rolling onto his back, he began a slow, reluctant stretch. _How is it that six uninterrupted hours of sleep leave me feeling sluggish?_ _I can't be getting old. I'm too young for that. _

A reckless thought of lying in occurred to him but he banished the idea from his plan for Sunday morning. He rolled his feet to the unsympathetic stone floor, stood with a grunt, and shuffled off to begin his routine.

His eyes were still half-matted shut with the grit in the corners of his eyes but he didn't need to see to pull out the celadon basin and fill it with lukewarm water. He bent forward to splash the water on his face, blinking a few times until his vision cleared.

Trails of water slipped down his neck when he straightened. In the mirror above the counter he regarded his reflection. Glistening traces slid over his stark collar bone and slipped down his firm pecs. _I suppose two months of sailing over the summer firmed up my usually scrawny muscles. It won't last past Christmas, but it is something_, he conceded to himself.

The slippery tracks dripped down his abdominals. They weren't the washboard variety, but he'd never been a strapping, beefed up sort of fellow. Why Muggles still used the term washboard when they all used electric clothes washing appliances addled Severus.

He sucked in his gut and gave himself a congratulatory look-over, finding his image adequate. He did take note that his hairline had begun to recede. But he doubted anyone else had observed this yet. The only clue was the fact that he had less hair to hide his face. While he used to practically cover his eyes with his bangs, they now fell in easy parts and reached down his lengthy jaw.

With a conclusive sniff, he turned away from his self-inspection. The Scotland weather was unseasonably warm for early September, and the sun had been shining brilliantly the last few days. Severus was determined to enjoy his summer robes for one more week. He dressed without fussing over his choice of clothes, made easy by his strictly regulated wardrobe.

The day commenced with his walk to the Forbidden Forest. A black ocean of sky receded into cerulean blues as he ambled along.

He was unsettled and took no particular pleasure in the morning constitutional. He barely noted the critters stirring as he passed by. He was agitated and unhappy, a state which he despised but had found all too common during his tenure as a pundit forced to cater to nincompoops.

In the last few days, too many unpredicted events had assaulted him. The entire ordeal with Hermione had gone from a bothersome snag to perverse conundrum.

He wasn't entirely convinced of Hermione's claim to travel through time but he had no other logical hypothesis to work with at the moment. The information she'd given him about time travel had not provided anything more than speculative suppositions. His contemplation led to an important question which he would have to work out sooner or later: _Is she so concerned about protecting her invention that she resorts to sophistry, or is she in fact incapable of lucid explanation?_

He judged her intelligence as an inconstant that wavered between structural, concise logic and superfluous, irrelevant conjecture. He couldn't fathom how she could have developed a magical device, by herself, no less, at an age close to a Sixth Year's.

The entire matter was not helped by her hysterics over an unnamed curse. While he understood in theory that an emotion could take one over, he did not fathom how a woman of fifty-odd years could develop any sense of "love" from a one night stand. Her blithering about their past and future romantic liaisons were utter nonsense.

As for himself, the unplanned but very pleasant sexual congress had stirred his body with a latent and heretofore unexpressed appreciation of the aesthetics of a female body. The years of abstaining from sexual activities hadn't seemed punishing until he had experienced it with the delectable "succubus."

His only regret was that her love felt too genuine. He would not remove Lily from his heart to make room for Hermione. This very thought struck Severus with a painful sting of conscience, and his head flooded with his recollection of the classic play, _The Winter's Tale_.

He could not imagine himself being blinded by jealousy like Shakespeare's Leontes, but he recognized in himself the stubborn refusal to listen to reason in any affair dealing with his emotions. What troubled him about the play was that Leontes finally did admit his love for his estranged wife Hermione. Leontes witnessed the unveiling of the statuesque Hermione after her absence of 16 years, and then she came to life as if by magic. This was uncomfortably similar to the reappearance of Hermione Granger in his own life.

_The connection to the Winter's Tale is merely coincidental and nothing more_, he concluded with a strong degree of assertion. What annoyed him about Hermione Granger was her penchant for predicting doom, going so far as calling their situation a curse.

Hermione was strikingly similarity to a younger Minerva McGonagall. He expected Hermione to imitate Minerva's levelheaded thinking. He disliked her superstitious rants about the curse. But he did concede that Minerva may not always have been as phlegmatic as she was now. He'd only known her as a colleague for the last ten years or so. Perhaps McGonagall had once had an equally naive doomsday mentality and she had subsequently grown out of it.

When he boiled it all down, he knew very little concrete information about Hermione. She was currently attending Hogwarts as a First Year, a fact validated by the Curriculum Vita and by Albus. An altogether different Hermione could possibly be the First Year who had grown up and created a time traveling device to torment him into insanity. That mature witch asserted that she was a Hogwarts Headmistress and even wore the robes to prove it. She further substantiated her claim by entering office while it was under a spell to prevent access to all save the Headmaster and himself.

He could dismiss the incidental pieces of information. But there was an issue which severely challenged his understanding about the magic used to defend Hogwarts. This mature Hermione had managed to outsmart the Castle by performing something similar to Apparation.

Perhaps she moved through the dimension of time only. He knew time traveling was permitted at Hogwarts, even though he himself had no need for such foolishness.

But he could not resolve the method that Hermione used to return to her own time. He felt an irritating puzzle festering unsolved in his mind. The fact that he did not fully understand the concepts of quantum physics was infuriating. The witch prattled on with her theory, leaving him no room to explore the phenomena.

As his irritation toward Hermione increased, he felt himself threatening to erupt in a tirade. So made a choice to think about something else. The History of Magic professor.

His conversation with the ghost of Cuthbert Binns hadn't given him anything concrete to work with, either. Severus suspected that the spirit of that man was far too set in his ways to offer an objective point of view on the matter. Severus had only gone to speak with his colleague because he did not want to talk to Albus about his illicit sexual encounter. This was a matter of pride, he knew. But he disliked being psychoanalyzed. And he did not want to discuss the possibility that he might have failed to maintain his devotion to Lily.

Severus had long suspected that without a single-minded resolve, he would compromise his ability to protect Lily's son, Harry Potter. It was Lily's blood that he cared about, no one else's. If not for Lily's death, he eventually would have delivered The Boy Who Lived to the Dark Lord.

Perhaps it was just as well that Harry had inherited his mother's eyes. From his first look at the nasty brat, Severus had recognized James Potter's arrogant, fool-hearty demeanor exuding from the boy's very skin. It was the eyes that reminded him of his obligation.

If all of this wasn't bad enough, Severus was now certain that his wand seemed to prefer another woman. Binns had added insult to injury by implying that Hermione ruled his cock, not just his wand. That thought made him quite uneasy. Particularly as he contemplated how pleasant it would be if her lips would eagerly part to suckle his wand dry.

He quickly relinquished that line of thinking. Instead, he contemplated the mysterious balm that he'd received. Perhaps in all the commotion Hermione had forgotten to give it to him at Hazel and Adder's. He'd seen her buy some ingredients in Hogsmeade, so it was likely that she had concocted the salve herself.

Bounce-Back Bee honey was a recognizable healing remedy. It was not unusual to use it as a base. It was possible that the limited sourcing of the honey to Echidna Thistles would have a pain relieving side effect. The Indigo Rattle Root had proven antiseptic properties. But Devour Wood Bark was rare. He hadn't even realized that the Forbidden Forest had Devour Wood trees, and he was just as happy for it. Whoever had collected it was certainly a braver man than he.

Overall, Severus found his morning walk to be more and more distressing. As he listed every discrepancy, few things had added up properly. Completely annoyed, he wandered out of the Forbidden Forest and rounded toward the south shore of the Hogwarts Lake, far from prying eyes of students and staff.

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A/N

_Thank you to all who answered my question from last chapter. I'm still researching it, but I'll let you know how you've helped me once I make sense out of it for myself._

_I enjoy reading your speculations about the plot, and I will get answers to reviewers on PMs soon, I hope._


	13. Slytherin Secret

**May 25, 2011**  
Sincere thanks to Christina Wynnwood for Beta reading in the midst of upheaval and chaos. *You rock, Girl, and you deserve the very best in everything.*

My thanks to all reviewers and readers. Criticism is welcomed, as well as appreciation. Just as a heads up, I will most likely be introducing the concept that Severus is not Anglo-Saxon "white". I will be playing with the idea of his sallow skin, and giving him Persian ancestry (a family line stemming from the "Magi" tradition). In this chapter, Severus notes the beauty of a woman who is not skinny and white. I hope to portray him as rather more open-minded than many "white" male characters written by middle-aged Caucasian writers such as myself.

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**Slytherin Secret  
Chapter 13**

Severus walked the lonely south shore of Hogwarts Lake. He was so intimately familiar with the landscape that he did not bother to look around. Even the dawn breaking with spectacular hues on the eastern horizon did nothing to inspire him.

After mulling over the mysterious Hermione Granger until his brains became a tangled knot of knitting yarn, he at last acknowledged the golden glow shimmering on the lake. And that is how he noticed the seventh-year Prefect, April Lek, dangling her toes off the edge of Salazar Pier.

Her long, inky cornrows of braids scattered down the back of her gray and green argyle jumper. Unaware of watching eyes, she stretched her arms over her head in the fetching, frisky manner of an owl awakening from a catnap.

The Head of Slytherin cared for the students under his charge. They all shared an unspoken understanding of mutual respect. He never neglected these souls, but regarded them more closely than he'd ever thought of his own family. He groomed students who would not disappoint when they left Hogwarts. He took care to select prefects who could wear the face of Slytherin loyalty and power in a magical society that hated and feared them.

Whenever a Slytherin Prefect was honored as Head Girl or Boy, it reflected considerably on Severus. He was proud of Slytherin's own Malace Bludd, who was Head Boy this year. But he had hoped it would have been April Lek selected as Head Girl. From the first day teaching Potions to this year's graduating class, he had sensed a great deal of hope and promise for this group of students. He was certain that much of his sentiment stemmed from the strangely calming effect that the lively, convivial Miss Lek had on his psyche.

The professor strode through the grass at the edge of the lake, rimmed with heather in September's bloom. His breathable linen robe still managed to billow behind him, as he had sufficiently softened the worn flax. He stepped onto the wooden boards of the pier, which had been preserved through magic for nearly 1,000 years but were weathered and gray nevertheless. Each step creaked as he walked down the floating promenade. The student looked back and jumped up with enthusiasm when she saw the Potions Master.

"Professor Snape!" April called with glowing warmth.

The scent of heather wafted toward Severus, bringing an image of a wildflower meadow with refreshing greenery. He felt a smile tugging at one corner of his mouth.

"The lake is beautiful at sunrise, isn't it?" She smiled, her eyes searching for agreement from her professor.

"If there is one constant in life that I appreciate more than any other, it is Helios never failing to drag the sun out of the watery depths day after day. You have found the perfect vantage point."

The student grasped the poetic comment, which was always gratifying to Severus. He hated when his efforts with language went underappreciated.

April followed up, saying, "Isn't it just the right angle to watch the castle glow like a candle charm? I'm completely baffled that the entire school is not out here with us."

"We have our dear Salazar to thank for this," Severus said in a reverent tone.

"The founder of Slytherin controls the sunrise?" She snickered at him. "Are you off your head from inhaling too many potions gone awry?"

Severus glanced at her pleasant, mocking face. "If I haven't gone out of my box yet, I'm sure the incoming set First Years will do me in. The blasted Gryffindor-Slytherin double potions will be my early death."

April winced in sympathy. "Ouch."

"And as for our enjoyment of this particular spot on the lake, it is warded and discoverable only by members of the house of Slytherin. To all other witches or wizards, this pier and the land surrounding it does not exist. It is much like Hogwarts does not exist in the Muggle world."

April was pensive for a brief moment. "That explains it. Most Slytherins are obsessed with pragmatism and do not spend enough time indulging their senses."

"You are observant," the professor nodded to the young woman.

"It's a good thing it's protected from the other houses, too. No doubt Hufflepuffs would run ruin over this quiet stretch and Gryffindors would be shagging here at all hours of the night."

Severus chuckled at the truth of it. April turned to face him, her eyes wide. "I thought I'd never hear a single laugh out of the dungeon bat—"

Severus glared at her, but softened when he saw the furious shame eating away at her light brown face. "As you are well aware, Miss Lek, I have a reputation to uphold. You would do me a kindness if you perpetuated the myth that I am a vampire and that I dangle by my toes when I sleep."

April laughed and blushed, mingling the two acts in a rhapsodic comportment. "If I dared to say that out loud, half the school would hex me in a jealous rage! Only a bawdy lady of the evening would know intimate details about Nosferatu."

The Potions Master drew in a sharp breath. "Your second point is well taken and I do apologize for my immodest implication. However, I must protest that such an ill association with me would subject you to vicious calumny, but never envy."

April said nothing. She simply turned her face to the warming rays of the sun. A lascivious grin painted her face that glowed like a bride of India decorated in henna.

Severus was confounded by her inward amusement. He forced his eyes away from her and stared out at the lake. The ripples sparkled like burnished bronze.

"Since you were _soooo_ immodest," April teased, still not looking at her professor, "I feel entitled to a certain liberty. That is, may I ask, have you ever taken a paramour at Hogwarts?"

Severus gulped. "Miss Lek, I do believe that asking about my love life is far too liberal."

"And insinuating that I have observed you sleeping was not?" she countered playfully.

Severus could not bring himself to reprimand the girl. His cold, calculating demeanor was melting with the rising of the autumn sun. He looked over at her, but she refused to return the gesture. He followed her gaze to the distant castle, illuminated with robust, sunny hues."

It felt odd to take a cue from a student. But Severus felt that he could speak to April in a detached manner and not worry about her ever turning his secrets into tools to manipulate him. He wanted to open up to someone. His tense shoulders relaxed as he decided to reveal just a tiny bit of his past.

"When I was a student, there was a girl from Gryffindor."

He saw April's posture soften, like tallow rendered in a cauldron. He hadn't guessed that she feared his harsh retribution for her audacity.

"I told her about this place."

His student stood so still, he had to wonder if she was even breathing. The silhouette of her eyes and her mouth expressed interest in his confession. She waited as patiently as a Bowtruckle Enthusiast, making not a sound.

Severus breathed out. "She thought I was playing a trick on her. She was so very Gryffindor in her mind. If she'd contemplated it at all, she would have realized that we Slytherin are the type to place a well-aimed hex and then get out. We don't bother with silly games."

April seemed to frown at that statement. But Severus dismissed it as the sun in his eyes.

"I wanted to show her this place. I tried to drag her by the hand, to bring her with me. But each time I stepped inside the ward, we were pulled apart. I could see her standing thirty meters away, but she couldn't see or hear me. I couldn't comprehend what was happening, because she was right there, calling my name.

"Oh, she had a fiery temper. With her hands on her hips, she turned a clockwise circle, and then spun around in the other direction. She screamed insults at me that even a troll would consider unforgiveable. And when she gave up and stomped away, I ran over to her. She saw me popping up from nowhere and accused me of showing off."

Severus shook his head, finding it hard to believe that Lily Evans was his only love interest apart from Granger. He went back to his story. "The girl tried to make old Professor Slughorn give me detention for apparating on school grounds. As soon as she mentioned the lake, he knew what had happened, of course. After he'd hemmed and hawed, he sent her away so that he could tell me how this place is known only to Slytherin."

April had been quiet until she asked, "Did she believe you when you told her about the ward?"

Severus looked at her sternly. "We don't talk about it with the other houses."

"Oh," she whispered. "You still come to the lake, though."

"I never let the incident with that girl stop me. Besides, if Salazar himself cooled off on hot summer days, then I felt entitled to do so as well."

"We can swim in the lake?" April choked. "Why didn't I ever think of that?"

Severus growled, "I suppose the Headmaster would be apoplectic if he knew. And for good reason. This is no place to swim alone. The grindylows have strangled even Ministry Aurors who did not take heed of the dangers. A Bubble-Head Charm won't cure a crushed windpipe."

"Do you still swim in this lake?" April asked.

"Yes. I harvest potions ingredients from the lake on occasion."

"Can I help with that?"

"I swim alone," he replied coldly, knowing that he had just contradicted his warnings about the dangers of the lake.

"Even when you were a student?" she probed.

He broke into a bright smile, reliving a memory. "No. After summer term exams, quite of few of us would go starkers in the lake."

April grinned mischievously. "I bet the water is still warm from the summer."

Severus noticed her pull her wand out of her shorts. He assumed she would do some spells to detect the temperature of the water. Alhtough he didn't quite hear her incantation, he took no heed of it until her cashmere sweater flew off and folded itself neatly next to a pair of loafers.

She turned to look at her professor, and he drank in the image of her satiny emerald bra hugging the chestnut tops of her melon breasts. Her milk-chocolaty stomach was full and roundish below the ample greenery. She looked delicious in her shorts. After receiving the assessment of the Potions Master, she turned to the water and jumped in, holding her wand above her head.

The cornrow braids sank under the opaque surface. The view from the edge of the pier was only the reflection of the sun on widening circles of water. When April's glistening face emerged, Severus let out a silent breath of air.

"The water's perfect," she called up to him.

He nodded and resigned himself to lifeguard duty.

She splashed the water, doing no harm since the pier was a good meter above her. "Come on! We've still got a hour before breakfast." She cajoled him but he was immoveable. Severus was not prepared for her solution, which was to magically divest him of his robe.

His reflexes were borne of survival as he grabbed his wand out of the robe even as it had begun to fold itself. He raised the ebony wood and was prepared to send a nasty hex toward the girl when he comprehended his state of undress. He conceded that it wasn't nearly as humiliating as it had been when Potter had used Levicorpus. Potter had meant it for harm, but he doubted April Lek had a spiteful drop of blood in her body.

When he lowered his wand and grabbed his robe to cover his tidy white briefs, he looked up to see panic draining out of April's face.

"You said you'd gone starkers," she choked out, coughing water she had accidentally swallowed.

"With boys from Slytherin," he replied dryly.

"What were you going to hex me with?" she spluttered.

Severus felt ridiculous covering his underwear with the folded robe. He didn't want a fellow Slytherin to think that he would actually perform a hex without calculating the necessity of it. It was fine for other students to fear him, but he would not permit his own house to cower under him.

"It was a precaution only, Miss Lek. If I had intended to hex you, we would not be having this conversation. What with Polyjuice Potions and all other manner of Dark Arts, I only meant to ensure that I was not compromised."

April had stopped coughing. She was now watching him with a wary expression.

"It seems that I am sufficiently persuaded to join you." With that he tossed aside his robe and jumped into the water.


	14. The Swimming Hole

**June 2, 2011**  
My awesome Beta reader, Christina Wynnwood, proves her awesomeness by assisting me with this long chappy.

_I own all my mistakes and bizarre plot. I do not own Harry Potter or other series characters. I made the disclaimer and it covers every single chapter in this story. Once for all, you know?_

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**To My Darling Readers:**  
What's the deal with April Lek? She's important to the plot. Deal with it.

Yes, Hermione is coming back. Please stop panicking. No, she's not in this chapter. She's busy doing whatever it is that Hermione does when she's an independent woman/girl/child.

_I love you when you review. Conditional love at its finest._

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_**Bummer News:**_ I might not be able to post again for the next 2 weeks. Vacation is coming up. I will be thinking devious plot lines for the story in my sleep and writing as soon as I can manage it. There will be down time for me to write in the summer. But not as much time as I've had during the school year.

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**The Swimming Hole  
Chapter 14****  
**

When Severus stepped off Salazar Pier at the lake just south of Hogwarts Castle, he made two observations. One, his student's presumptuous temerity indeed had stripped him of every bit of clothing except his white boxer shorts. Two, April Lek had a look of surprise and triumph in her doe-brown eyes.

The pleasantly cool water engulfed his feet first, then his legs, his torso – he involuntarily sucked in a breath – his chest, and finally his face and the top of his head. He closed his eyes, baptized in the dark wetness. Slimy Lemuria Pondweeds writhed around his legs before he kicked strongly to break free of the deadly snares.

He contemplated Archimedes' Principle of Buoyancy. The lake should push him up to the surface with the same ferocity that his body mass had so rudely displaced it. Hogwarts Lake did not conform to some old Greek scientist's observations about fluid mechanics. The water was imbued with magic. Severus could have eternally immersed himself in the tempting liquid, a baptism of death that forgot about the breath of new life.

In the stillness he opened his eyes and saw the gossamer rays of dawn illuminating April. Her legs were treading the water with relaxed, even kicks. It occurred to him that the girl would be rather traumatized if he were to drown right in front of her. That gave him the impetus to spear through the surface tension of the suppressing fluid so that he could gulp in the air his body had forgotten to crave.

_What am I doing? _He took in a deep breath, filled his lungs with the air and then blew it out, and with it, the tension that steadily built up in his body over the last few days. He collapsed his wand and tucked it behind his ear, just as he'd done in the very same lake years ago.

Swimming as-good-as-starkers with a female student didn't seem nearly so obscene as it had moments ago. He was experiencing a whimsical feeling of freedom. It harkened back to the antics of his Slytherin pals in the '70s. To feel sentimental about it now felt strange, to be sure. But he welcomed this momentary lapse in the structured, systematic life that had framed his ten or so years as Potions Master.

"I just knew it would do you right good to let loose, Professor," a plush voice chaffed.

Severus gazed at April's colossal grin and couldn't help allowing his solemn countenance to melt into the loch.

"See, even you have to admit it feels damn fine." She smirked and tilted an eyebrow, daring him to disagree. "Admit it."

Severus swam three strokes further into the lake. "It needs further analysis."

April's lips bunched together the briefest of moments. "You've gotta enjoy it in your gut." She pushed a splash of water into his face. "Bet you can't get me back," she challenged before she dove under.

He sank into the lake and saw her speeding toward the unfathomably deep lake center. Her arms moved with power, but her speed came from porpoise-like kicks with her gracefully united legs. He darted after her, using his wand to propel him in the water. He gave them both the Bubble-Head Charm, but she popped hers, smirking back at him. Thoughts brushed past his consciousness_: Is she part mermaid? Could she extract oxygen from the water directly?_

She moved fast. So very fast. If he had been merely swimming, he'd never have been able to keep up. These lake depths were the sacred pools where he had once forced himself to learn how to fly without a broom. After he'd seen the Dark Lord do it, he used to spend night after night propelling his body through the water.

The lake was a forgiving, patient teacher. Its magic had taught him ancient secrets. But the lake alone could not teach him how to fly. Only when he'd found a hidden portcullis deep in the lake had he discovered serpentine runes carved in walls of granite. Perhaps his standing as Head of Slytherin had given him the right to slide up the grating and enter the cavern. He'd never heard anyone else speak of it. Slughorn, after all, wasn't the type to bother with exploring the murky lake. He probably hadn't even known about it. Most likely, Salazar himself had seen fit to assure the secrecy of such knowledge.

Severus had never discerned how Voldemort had learned the secrets of flying without a broom. But surely he had learned them. This type of magic wasn't easily acquired. A thought caused Severus to shudder: _could the Dark Lord even now be feeding off the lessons contained within those dark depths? _

April had only been interested in a brief reconnoiter of the lake. She'd barely touched the surface of its mysteries before she turned back and ended the chase base back at the pier. When Severus rose out of the water, she surged forward and locked her arms around his shoulders. With a playful poke of her wand, she broke the air bubble around Severus' head.

He didn't know when his hands had come to rest on her hips, where her shorts stopped and her skin ascended. They were both churning their legs to stay afloat, but he sensed an unconscious flow of magic from her that did more to keep their heads above the waterline than his own paltry efforts. At every point where their bodies touched, he felt her warmth radiating into his skin.

"That was absolutely the most fun I've had at Hogwarts in ages!" She hugged herself closer to him. Her chest pressed into his sallow skin, a green pea pod filled with mountains of warm chocolate-covered goodness.

Her breath warmed his cheek. "Have you completed your analysis?" Severus was having trouble remembering their earlier conversation. He could barely look at her face when his eyes could feast on the smorgasborg below the water.

She didn't appear to mind the focus of his eyes. She wasn't inclined to discuss it. She had something else on her mind. With a saucy, demanding tone she challenged him, "If you'd been on the peak of Mount Pinatubo when it erupted in the Philippines this summer, would you be still be researching your feelings on the matter?"

Now Severus assessed her mocking, squarish face. He tried – oh, he tried so hard not to let his smirk show up when he replied, "Faulty logic, Miss Lek. Have I mislead you to believe that I would not Apparate away from an erupting volcano?"

Her fingers teased sopping hair on his neck. The response in his lower regions could not be helped. His voice had a rugged, drawling quality now. "But to leave this—even if the brightest fires at the autumnal equinox were to ignite in my flesh, even if my life depended on it, I surely could not Apparate away from … this."

April's eyes pierced him. "But you still haven't agreed that 'this' feels fine, have you?"

"I fail to see why you are so averse to giving me time to consider the matter." He felt an aching desire to let his hands slide up to her breasts. He resisted it, and focused his attention on the deepening pink of her ample lips. "After all, the sensation of wearing thoroughly saturated underwear in your presence is entirely new for me. Do you care to enlighten me about your experience with wet knickers and an improved disposition?

A surge of red rushed up April's face. She jerked her arms off him and back-pedaled her legs away from the Potions Master before diving her scorching face into the lake. When she resurfaced, her back was to him and her fingers nervously pulled at a long braid.

He felt a pang of regret that his crude comment had pushed her away. With the sensation of a Fire Thunder potion roiling in his loins, he began, "It was entirely churlish of me …" But he could not find any other phrase worth explaining his careless words.

She whipped her head toward him, her cheeks still touched with rosiness. "I didn't think you'd noticed me during Potions. Has it been that obvious?"

Severus felt his eyebrows wrinkling up. "Obvious?" He looked down into the water to see if she was actually referring to his obvious physiological response to her flirting.

She licked her lips. "You've known all along that I was masturbating against the seam of my jeans while listening to your tantalizing lectures on the bodily senses?"

Severus nearly choked. "I …" he began, finding himself entirely at a loss for words for yet another reason. "The seam of your jeans?" he finally asked with incredulity.

April's face darkened with the realization that her subtle gyrating on the dungeon stool had indeed slipped under the radar of her professor. And now she was mortified to have admitted the unwhisperable.

When she didn't answer, Severus spoke in a gentle, placating voice. "I had no idea that clothing could be so multifunctional. I may have to acquire a pair of jeans to experience the pleasure for myself." His lips quivered with a smile but he quickly doused that seedy display of emotion.

"So you're not going to make me drop Advanced Potions?" April blurted.

"Certainly not. You're the brightest in the graduating class. Your talents in Potions alone will bring honor to Slytherin when we publish your NEWTS score at graduation."

April breathed out shakily but kept her distance from Severus. Worry still wrapped its stinging tentacles around her face.

Severus ran his hand through his wet mop of hair. "Your embarrassment is making this conversation unnecessarily uncomfortable for both of us. Responses to stimulation are natural. Healthy, even." He tried not to think back to his most recent "healthy" activities.

April refused to look at her professor. With one last attempt at diffusing the uncomfortable silence, Severus suggested, "If your secret has anything to do with your grades, then I should require all of my students to wear Muggle clothes under their robes."

At last April broke out laughing. Severus let her cheerfulness bubble over him. "I know my roomies all have their favorite pairs of Potions Hot Pants." She tried to stifle her laughter but was losing the battle.

At that moment Severus pieced together a dozen random memories of female students gazing at him with glowing expressions, their bodies gently oscillating in their seats during his lectures. This led to more memories of Advanced Potions girls shuddering with soundless moans as he gazed over their shoulders, taking them by their hands to guide the stirring of potions and breathing hints into their ears. There had been envious glares of young men who at moments hated him worse than his Death Eater association merited. And then there was that sobbing racket made by a particularly ugly Slytherin some years back who had failed to pass OWLS in Potions despite the fact that Severus had spent more than half of some class periods coaching the glassy-eyed girl.

He was tempted to feel smug about his masculine affect on libidinous girly hormones. But even more he was repulsed by the idea that his carefully manicured persona of a harsh and unsympathetic former Death Eater had won a place in the hearts of so many malleable, ill-informed witches on the cusp of adulthood.

A new batch of memories assaulted him like poison daggers. Professor Slughorn training the Slytherinas to ingratiate themselves to his whims. And later, Death Eaters' wives silently tolerating the excesses of their cruel and vicious spouses. The associations with the Dark Lord particularly chilled him. His mouth was parched. Anxious fears gnawed at his memories. But one memory still haunted more than any other.

It was when Lily Evans had turned away from Severus forever and had accepted James Potter's proposal of marriage. She'd taken no less than a vow of silence against the dastardly things that Potter and his gang had attempted. Severus had nearly lost his life because of their hateful schemes. Their treatment of him was completely unmerited. Severus had never unleashed the full potential of his hexes upon those miscreants.

Not until he had been consummated with the Dark Mark had he ever truly practiced evil. But when he had gotten in too deep, he'd made sure to prove true the haunting accusations made by Lily: "Severus, how could you ever think I would be attracted to you? You, more than anyone I've ever known … you court Darkness like a mistress."

It wasn't really Lily talking. By then she had sunk too deep into Potter's snares. That woman wasn't the same witch who had enrolled at Hogwarts their First Year.

But the denigrating of witches wasn't the legacy of measly Potter and the idealistic young wizards in the Order of the Phoenix. No, the entire magical world was active in condemning its witches to a life of quiet servitude if they chose marriage instead of independence. And now he cursed his own role in leading the innocent lambs to the lairs of their husbands. He had unknowingly fed their sexual desires and handed them over to their male classmates to satisfy those lusts. Bile crept up his throat.

"So, how do we get out of the lake?" His attention was drawn back to April. She was looking up at the pier. He knew that she would realize sooner or later that she could cast a charm to levitate out of the lake.

"There's a cove behind that stand of cattails," Severus began, nodding his head to the left. It was true. The cove was a suitable place to walk out of the lake.

Their attention was distracted by a silvery wisp of a Welsh cob stallion that galloped over the surface of the lake from the direction of the castle. It leapt to the wooden platform and pranced on its luminescent feet, braying silently as it shook its mane.

"Malace!" April said cheerfully. "He must be looking for me." Her smile dropped off as quickly as it had shown up. "Oh. He's going to be awfully jealous when he sees me like this."

Severus clenched his teeth before muttering, "Sunday breakfast is being served. Perhaps you wish to accompany him."

"Oh, right, well … " April lifted her wand and shot a green plume into the air above the lake to alert Malace of her location. The pony-like patronus leapt back over their heads and skipped across the lake to return to the young wizard.

"Allow me to levitate you out of the lake," Severus said, wasting no time. With wand raised, he gently deposited the dripping wet girl onto the pier. Her nipples strained through the green fabric, which was now sagging ever lower. Then she bent down to put on her shoes. The savory view of her plump, rounded arse peeked out of the bottoms of her shorts. Drips threading down her legs fueled a dizzying erection.

He hastily spoke a drying spell that caused her to squeal and jerk her body. But she realized immediately what he had done and so she smiled her thanks as she tugged on the fluffy argyle jumper.

"I'd hate to see that pretty sweater ruined," he explained as a way of apology. He would have to remain in the water until his trunks no longer threatened to burst open with a perverse salutation.

April glanced down and her outfit and smoothed over the mounds hugged by her sweater. Severus held back a grunt of painful appreciation. "This was a back-to-school gift from Mum," she explained, oblivious to her suggestive hands. Then she patted down her cornrow braids. "Good thing I've got my hair taken care of. It would have been awful trying to tame it."

Malace Bludd was at that moment whizzing across the lake on a broom. He circled around and landed on the pier next to April.

Severus did not miss the suspicious glance that Malace directed his way, just above the twitching thin line of a sandy brown beginner's mustache that perfectly matched his short, combed hair.

"What's keeping you from the brunch?" the boy asked, the possessive question wrapping itself around April and drawing her to him. He put a firm hand around her hips.

"I was just out for a stroll and came across Professor Snape taking a morning swim in the lake," she lied easily. She flitted her eyes toward Severus and he did not miss her silent request that he play along.

Malace glanced down at the folded black summer robe strewn on the dock and then he studied the Potions Master. His eyes betrayed the unspoken sentiment: _My witch will not end up as your discarded playtoy._

"Yes, I was about to harvest some Freshwater Gillyweed this morning," Severus replied, feigning ignorance over the suspicion flowing from the Head Boy. "Miss Lek happened along just now and asked if she could assist me."

Severus watched April's eyes widen and her lips purse together in frustration. He quickly adjusted his story, "But I explained that she would only be a troubling nuisance and that I'd rather work alone than put up with her bossiness." By this point he was far too exasperated by her clandestine signals to care that he'd most likely deeply offended her.

To his surprise, April grinned.

Malace nodded briskly. "Right, then. Well, Lek, you heard the professor. Quit making a nuisance of your bossy self." A tinge of humor softened the words.

As Malace mounted his broom and steadied it for April to mount it in front of him, she snuck a mouthed "Thank you, Professor Snape" and a wink before cozying up against her classmate.

The Head Boy and Prefect glided across the lake as Severus watched, somewhat relieved the temptation had been wrested away from him. He wondered how much more complicated his life could possibly become. He vowed to himself that by this time tomorrow his life would fall back into that easy, mind-numbing routine which he had grown used to after the fall the Dark Lord.


	15. Punishing the Past

**June 13, 2011  
**_Hello, readers! I have a hot-off-the-press new chapter which I have not even given my Beta the courtesy of reviewing. Please forgive me, Christina! I literally just wrote this today. It's a bad habit to forgo Beta reading. But I just wanted to give everyone a taste of what I dreamed up over the last week._

_The idea for this chapter came about while I propped my sore feet up on several pillows in my hotel room after of a long, hot day. Walking to the Museum Campus from a hotel in Chicago causes aching feet. Don't let anyone tell you any different._

_I'm glad I took my son to Shedd Aquarium, the Field Museum (remember the movie Night at the Museum?) and Adler Planetarium. We took a bus to the Museum of Science and Industry, too. The best part of my vacation was probably seeing the Blue Man Group perform. And then staying at the ritziest hotel I've ever been at was a nice bonus (with most of the nights paid by my husband's professional training event, which was the whole reason for the trip in the first place)._

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**Punishing the Past  
Chapter 15**

The cool lake embraced Severus as he allowed himself to become enchanted once again by waters that made him forget the necessity of breathing. The dark stillness was a womb encasing him. He slumped into the peace of the black nothingness, not striving to breathe, not caring that glowing white spots were overtaking the blackness of his vision. He relished that oxygen-deprived hallucination.

In the glowing, burgeoning whiteness he envisioned once again April coddling up to her classmate. He did not deny the jealous pain that was growing in his chest, threatening to explode his heart. He wasn't angry toward Malace Bludd for winning the beautiful girl's heart. It was pride that Severus felt, knowing that he had hand-picked the Slytherin Prefect who was now Head Boy. Severus heartily approved of Malace's protective claim on April.

It was regret that fueled the Potion Master's jealousy. Severus had let Lily go to James Potter. That was the truly unforgivable sin of his pathetic attempt at life. He felt his punishment as it was meted out. Stinging pains assaulted his hands and his feet. Severus floated in the spread eagle position, arms and legs outstretched, willing himself to be swallowed by the lake. He closed his eyes and let his last living thoughts dwell on Lily Evans holding hands with the other man. A strange heaviness oppressed Severus as he let out a strangled cry of sorrow.

His lungs should have filled with lake water, sealing him in his tomb. Instead, it was crisp air that his aching lungs breathed in. Severus felt his body being nudged into a shallow stretch of reeds. One hand brushed against coarse grass. When he opened his eyes, he turned his head to see that he was in the little cove near Salazar Pier. In the water, glowing white balloons nudged him to the shore. His opposite hand dipped into the water. He was stung with violent surges of electricity. He was surrounded by floating jellies.

Far out in the lake, a merman surfaced and gave an odd whistle that herded the bloom of jellyfish into the lake depths. Undulating ripples of white spread apart into individual blobs, their long tentacles swaying underneath them. Next to him, an aged mermaid bobbed her head out of the water. Her withered, gray body slid into the shallows. She applied a slimy salve onto Severus' inflamed hands and feet. The soothing effect was immediate, relieving the stings of the jellyfish.

The mermaid spoke a stern admonition to Severus, which he understood only by her tone and by the consternation on her face. She held out his wand to him and he took it, dazed. Only now he realized that he had let go of it in the lake. Then she gave him a gentle shove to encourage him to stand.

As if in a stupor, Severus walked over the rough grass. He ignored the pain of the occasional broken reed threatening to spear through his bare feet. When he reached the pier, he sprawled out onto it. His breaths were shallow, even frantic. He comprehended how he had nearly forfeited his life and then he retched the bile of an empty stomach onto the wooden slats.

Lying in the sun and breeze had nearly dried his underwear. With weakness he stood again. He used his full concentration to wordlessly dress himself by magic. Then with a weak voice, he forced the incantation, "_Corroboro_." Vital energy slowly coursed through him as if it was being siphoned from the very atmosphere around Hogwarts. The magical energy propelled him over the lake, and he grazed the surface of the water. He landed before the great oak doors of the castle which opened for him.

With intense magic coursing through him now, he strode to the great hall where the Sunday brunch was winding down. His pace was brisk and determined, seeing that only the Headmaster remained at the head table. Severus was the last of the faculty to appear for the meal.

If he had not chosen that moment to look down, he would surely have knocked down a slender First Year navigating recklessly behind a stack of textbooks. He did not recognize the titles on the few book spines facing him. _The Great Literature of the Romantic Period _was not in any Muggle Studies syllabus he'd seen_. Essential Calculus _seemed laughable compared to arithmancy_. _And the silly textbook _Latin Through the Ages _would make Flitwick scream in nightmares if he knew his students were attempting their own charms based on Muggle authorship.

The girl stopped short. He could hardly see her face behind the stack of books, so Severus ventured a guess that she had recognized the strong magic emanating from him rather than seeing him. She tried to lower the encumbering tomes, which threatened to tumble to the marble floor with cacophonous results. At the sight of the precarious leaning of the textbooks, Severus flicked his wand. The resulted was both a straightening of the pile and a lightening the total weight by distributing some of the gravitational energy onto his own body. Her arms appeared to be trembling from the heavy strain already.

"Thank you, Professor Snape."

It was Hermione's voice. Severus wished to step toward the girl but forced himself to stop. He refused to encourage the relationship that the older Hermione was pursuing with him. If possible, he would put a stop to it and prevent it from beginning.

Severus realized that his silence was taken by the young Hermione as a dismissal of sorts. While he wished he could call after her and show her some kind of warm affection, he also hoped she would conclude that he was a rude, hardened cur.

She walked away from the stairs that would lead to her dormitory, leaving him guessing about where she intended to spend the morning studying. He felt sorry for the girl. He had been much the same when he came to Hogwarts. If it had not been for Lily, he would never had explored the Castle grounds or enjoyed the warm days of autumn that first year.

As Hermione retreated, he noticed her bushy hair was a tangled mess. He wondered if she had even bothered to run a brush through it since her arrival. That she was oblivious to her physical condition pained him. He knew how beautiful she was, and yet she hid herself from the world.

One thought cheered him. She would be untouched by the perverted Gryffindor boys as long as she remained oblivious to her body's feminine power.


	16. Who's Got That Swing?

**June 20, 2011**

Much appreciation is owl-ed to my Beta reader, Christina Wynnwood, for helping me improve this piece. Thank you for your patience awaiting this update. I have to ask for your patience for the next update, too. This week I have a writing assignment due and I'm having a bit of trouble with it.

Upcoming chapters will focus on first year Hermione interacting with Severus. Through Severus we get to see what her life was like during her first two months at Hogwarts leading up to the Mountain Troll incident. I will do my best to write in character and to avoid as much alternate universe as possible. I appreciate criticism and I do respond with a defense if I have one.

This story is purely for entertainment purposes rather than serving as my thesis on "what really happened." I myself have to suspend disbelief as I write! I appreciate your reviews as much as I love chocolate.

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**Who's Got That Swing?**  
**Chapter 16**

Students were now streaming out of Great Hall. Happy voices rang out with their plans to enjoy the fine Autumn day. Severus glided against the current, parting the waves without effort.

Most students hastily looked away to avoid eye contact with him. Draco Malfoy sauntered from the Slytherin table with the two kid thugs still in tow. "Morning, Sir." Severus gave a tolerant nod, amused at the boy's strut that oozed the Malfoy claim to aristocracy.

Severus approached the head table but was cut off by Quirinus Quirrell. The smelly turban waggled. "Oh, you've b- b- been immersed in your work since F- F- Friday night," the pasty-skinned professor stuttered out with a knowing look. "Do you p- p- plan to share your lovely f- f- fiend or will you keep her all to yourself?"

Severus glowered at his colleague with disgust. The raw energy flowing from the Potions Master pushed against the Defense Agains the Dark Arts Professor. "Do not speak of this again, Quirinus. Whatever ruined your nerves in Albania is nothing compared to what I have done to my enemies."

The determined pest was energized by the intense force radiating from his colleague. A genteel, well-manicured hand grasped the sleeve of Severus' cloak. Quirinus rasped, "I know somewhat of the wicked things, you have done."

Severus leered at him. "You are a fool to test me, Quirinus." A foul odor assaulted the olfactory senses of the master potioneer, drawing his eyes to the purple turban atop his colleague's head.

Quirinus smirked, "You do n- n- not frighten me in the l- l- least, Severus." He stepped to the side and bumped into two students leaving the Gryffindor table. Harry Potter clutched his temple beneath that wild and untamed head of dark hair. His Weasley red-headed companion muttered, "Snape's an ugly git, yeah. Don't make a scene about it."

Harry winced, his face contorting with pain. Quirinus' eyes rolled up for a brief moment as his face paled more than usual. Then he looked down at the boy. "M- m- mind yourself, Mr. P- Potter."

Harry gave a friendly nod to the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor. Then he aimed a piercing stare of callow hate straight into Severus' eyes. The Potions Master returned the animosity with fervor.

Severus felt the energy around him quivering with malignant vibrations. A deep whisper in his psyche taunted him. Memories of crushing pain tingled throughout the nerves of his body and he shuddered in horror. If he was honest with himself, he was terrified to think that the Potter imp had cultivated the malevolent wizarding signature of the Dark Lord.

"Harry?" The fearful voice of Ron Weasley tamed the rampant occult energies. Severus turned his head sharply. He took note of smeared dung on the end of the Weasley boy's nose, only to realize that it was merely an overgrown freckle. "You need some fresh air, you do." Ron pulled Harry out of the Great Hall.

Leaving Quirinus behind, Severus stumbled toward the Head Table. He leaned heavily on his arm, regaining his equilibrium.

Albus lowered his copy of the Daily Prophet and gave Severus a look-over. "Come with me," the Headmaster ordered curtly.

Severus gave a slight nod of acquiescence and followed Albus to the hidden door behind the table. It slid open and they entered the passage. Candles lit themselves as they approached, and blew out when they had passed. The ghost of an owl animangus hooted and flapped into the darkness behind them.

They reached an open-door lift at the end of the corridor. Its amber fixtures glowed. "Office of the Headmaster," Albus ordered in his firm, deep voice. They rose steadily and were unceremoniously deposited in front of the grand oak desk.

"Sit down, Severus."

The professor wasted no effort to scramble into the cushy armchair that had materialized next to him. Albus shucked the heavy velvet robe he had worn for his appearance before the student body.

"Drucken," the Headmaster summoned in a gentle voice. A withered old elf popped into the room. Albus squatted down, groaning as his knees made crackling protests. He looked into the face of the elf and quietly directed, "Have the kitchen bring a full breakfast with a steaming pot of peppermint tea for our friend, Mr. Snape."

"Drucken be happy to oblige," the elf wheezed. As Dumbledore made to stand up, the wizened little creature helped to push him up, steadying the wizard's arm.

"Thank you, Drucken. Your service is greatly appreciated, as always."

An elfin gray blush flooded the elderly being's face. He popped out of the room.

Albus waved his hand with two artistic flairs. A second chair appeared and the oak desk transformed into a dining table. It shuffled on its stout legs until it settled right in front of Severus. It shot up and then squatted low until it settled on just the right height for morning tea.

"It's a pleasure to have you joining us for daily meals, Severus. I must say, I do quite miss your even-keeled presence when you stay away. There's only so much I can take of Minerva and Filius without experiencing indigestion."

The dining table at that moment was set with several platters. The covers magically evaporated in their steam. The room filled with the delectable aroma of crepes, croissants, ham, pudding, elderberry compote and deep fried pumpkin straws.

A silver tea pot poured itself into a dainty china tea cup that took flight with tiny fairies carrying it to Severus' lips. He clutched the frail handle and gulped down the scalding infusion.

Albus yawned. "I do believe I will nod off for a moment, Severus." He melted deeper into the chair and rolled his head to the side. A fluffy, round pillow swept through the room and snuggled against his neck.

Severus piled eggs and slices of ham onto a plate. He devoured them and moved on to crepes and jam. Then he slurped spoonfuls of warm compote. A few snorts from the dosing Headmaster were the only commentary he received in regard to his ravenous appetite. The tea cup filled again and again. He gladly drank the stimulating decoction.

At last he sighed with contentment and Albus stirred in his chair.

"You certainly know how to enjoy a morning meal." The Headmaster pulled out a dainty handkerchief and wiped a trail of drool off his chin. "I find a little nap after breakfast to be the most refreshing sleep, don't you?"

"Er …"

Albus smiled. "Oh, I know you are your own worst taskmaster, Severus. But it is quite nice to relax and enjoy life every once and a while, isn't it? Did you have a pleasant day yesterday?"

Severus eyed the old man. Nothing was a secret. He felt exposed. And yet he knew that Albus would never shame him into admitting anything. At times he compared working for Albus to his past allegiance to the Dark Lord. Albus was a gentle master. Yes, he inspired great fear. In many ways, Severus feared Albus more than he had ever feared Lord Voldemort. But only Albus had earned his friendship.

"I have spoken to the mug shots in the Curriculum Vitae, Severus."

"Oh?"

"Minvera told me how pleased she was that you'd taken interest in a Gryffindor student."

"Is it not my duty to familiarize myself with new students?"

Albus laughed from his belly. "You've never been one to complete your duties as requested."

Severus balked. "Sir?"

The old wizard leaned over the side of his armchair. "You are my favorite among all the teaching staff. Don't tell Minerva, if you please. My old body simply can't tolerate her scratching and biting hissy fits any more. Infections just don't heal properly at my age."

"I could brew antiseptic—"

"I would rather avoid upsetting her in the first place," Albus snorted. He leaned closer and placed a comforting, wrinkled hand on top of Severus' knee. "You never did open the Granger girl's Vita. Your discipline gives me great pride."

Severus was unable to respond for a moment. He found his voice and cheeped, "What did she say?"

Albus stood up. "Let's stretch a bit, shall we? I'll be likely to doze off again if I stay in this comfortable chair for any length of time."

Severus pushed back from the dining table and stood quickly. He meant to help the Headmaster to his feet but found the old man still sprightly enough to push himself out of the chair with a playful groan.

Albus stretched his arms out in a luscious, fully-voiced yawn. He began to meander around the very large office. "I discovered from my conversation with Granger that she is an ambitious witch."

Severus stopped the Headmaster. "What exactly did she tell you?"

Dumbledore snickered. "Well, she wasted no time to inform me that she will achieve Deputy Headmistress far earlier than Minerva ever did."

"Was she so bold?"

"She was."

"Pretentious child," muttered Severus.

The jovial laugh of Albus reverberated through Severus. "I do not believe she spoke under false pretenses, Severus. But it is fortunate that intercepted her Vita before any of the other professors had a chance to be regaled of her self-importance."

Severus smirked. "I suppose I should be grateful to you for saving me from Minerva's wrath."

Albus was quiet for a moment. The sounds of students shouting filtered through an open window somewhere in his office.

"So you do wish to thank me?" Albus stated rather than asked.

Severus screwed up his eyebrows. "What are you playing at?"

"I merely wondered how would might demonstrate your gratitude." Albus had a boyish curiosity glowing on his face.

"I …" Severus looked down at his rather fascinating shoes.

Albus waved off the feeble attempt at an explanation. "Never mind that. The truth, Severus, is that Minerva has made it clear that she wishes to raise up her own protégée. For several years now, I've been hoping that she will choose you as her Deputy when she becomes Headmistress. But I will not be surprised if she favors the Granger girl."

Severus swallowed a lump of tension in this throat. "Perhaps I will be indisposed to take the position when the time comes."

Albus gave a sly glance at the young man. "Granger's mug shot told me that an older Hermione came to visit you. You'll understand that I was deeply worried over your absence yesterday. Please tell me: was her visit … friendly?"

Severus felt himself blush.

Dumbledore nodded. "I see. Friendliness is good. A little fuck here and there is a great stress reliever."

Severus cleared his throat while he feigned lack of surprise at the coarse language. "I saw no harm in a bit of collegial fraternization." His cough disguised his attempting to keep a grin from taking up permanent residency on his face. "But I suspect that she is after something. She has boasted of her access to Hogwarts records, so she must know of the Stone."

As if Severus had just spoken a mood charm, the demeanor and bearing of Albus changed. "She is clever, I give you that." He pulled on his long beard and stared through the rock wall of his office. "But is she greedy? She is not like Tom Riddle in any way, is she?"

"No." Severus shook his head. "She seems to have a moderate amount of ambition. But she does not dwell on it. She makes light of herself with outrageous yet ingenious claims."

Dumbledore spoke in nearly a whisper, "Tell me."

"The woman believes she has developed a device to travel backward in time. It is much more flexible than a standard time shifter."

"Yes, yes. That part is obvious enough, isn't it?" Albus pressed, "What other claims has she made?"

Severus drew his lips in a straight line and his shoulders began to inch upward. "She has forged a union between us with some type of magic. She was as startled as I when our wands bound us in their energies. We seem to be attracted to one another in ways that the other cannot fulfill. Hermoine calls it a curse."

"Hermione?" Albus chuckled. "Using her first name so soon … have you grown close to the child, then?"

Severus shook his head. "Not the girl, Albus. The woman. The Headmistress. That temptress."

"Ah. Do you love her?"

Severus looked into the calm face of the Headmaster. "No. I desire her. My love is reserved for Lily alone. Hermione is quite aware of this."

Dumbledore gave Severus a doubtful glance as he placed his hand on Severus' shoulder. "Thank you for telling me everything. If I had not already chosen Minerva, you would be my Deputy. As it is, I must be content to develop you as my youngest protégée ever." The Headmaster's age-spot-bespeckled hand brushed a sheaf of black hair off the Potion Master's neck. "I regret that I must ask you for more service, Severus."

Severus kept his eyes lowered. "I am willing to do whatever is necessary."

Albus shuffled closer, his wrinkled hand smoothing against the stoic jaw of the young man. "You must keep close watch on Quirrell for me. I do not believe that he holds the best interest of Hogwarts in his mind." He placed a warm hand at the junction of Severus' shoulder and neck. "Our quirky professor's behavior is becoming increasingly erratic."

Severus sucked in a deep breath. For a moment, he thought he had misheard Albus' last word as "erotic."

The old sorcerer's eyes twinkled. "And, Severus, we must both step up our protection of Harry. He's got a brave spirit and he may very well get himself in too deep."

Severus felt his face wrinkle in disgust. "I cannot bear to be near the boy."

"I am sorry that it must be this way." Albus lifted up Severus' chin. "I take no pleasure in making you face your demons. But I have so few who I would trust with my life." The Headmaster waited until their eyes met. "You are the one man at Hogwarts who has earned my complete … trust."

Severus tore his head away. "I don't swing that way, Albus." He ignored the merry guffaw of the old man. Looking at a silver plaque hanging on the wall, Severus noticed the reflection of his face had a lightly tinted vermillion sheen. "I am not offended by your bent. But I will not be seduced into doing your bidding."

Dumbledore sighed. "Much to my loss," he conceded, allowing his arms resting at his side.

Severus turned a harsh look at Albus. "What do you really want?"

The Headmaster looked up at the ceiling. "I want to find that blasted swimming hole you frequented this morning."

Severus clenched his teeth for a moment and then he broke into a heart-felt laugh. "So you admit the superiority of Slytherin? Finally there is one secret that I can keep while I serve you."

Albus chuckled. "Yes, you can have your one secret. But you will come to me if you cross a moral line with the girl. Do we have an understanding?"

Severus choked. "A moral line? How dare you think of me in that way." His eyes sparked with energy.

Albus rolled his eyes. "Do you think I've never taken liberties with a student? How do you suppose this who mess with Tom started out?"

Severus gasped. "Tom … the Dark Lord?"

Albus growled. "You did not hear me say that. And he was old enough to make a choice at the time, so don't go ballyhooing to the Ministry about this. Now look, Severus, I simply ask that you do not force yourself upon a child."

"I would never!"

Albus grimaced. "You say that now. Just wait until she develops perky little breasts and learns the fine art of a well-directed coquettish smile. Believe me, Severus. If she pursues you, I will never accuse you of unbecoming conduct. But I do not permit coercion. I'd be happy to supply you with ten whores a day to keep you sated and to protect an innocent child. Do you understand?"

Severus swore under his breath and turned away. "You know that I am no slave to lust and sensuality."

"No, you are not. Otherwise you would have already enjoyed the pleasures that I can offer you."

Severus felt his back grow rigid. "You cannot possibly be jealous of the girl."

"Why can't I?" Dumbledore asked in his calm, smooth-as-ganache voice.

Severus felt an urge to swallow but fought it. He would not reveal his discomfort to the old man.

"If you have found love," Albus chimed, "far be it from me to stand in your way."

"Love?" Severus scoffed. "What is love?" He did not wait for an answer. "I have many things yet to do today. You will excuse me for leaving your most hospitable presence."

Severus rushed out of the room, his robe in full swing behind him. With a cringe, he recalled his hasty departure on Friday evening. He scowled and conceded that his habit of taking sudden leave of the Headmaster was a fair imitation of a spoiled mistress running away to pout.


	17. Knight

**June 30, 2011  
**[Edited July 1, 2011]**  
**

Hello, Dear Readers. I believe that the idea for miniature gargoyles in front of the staff room come from a fan fiction that I have read (and reviewed) in the past 3 months.

I have posted this in a hurry without a Beta reading since I've gone so long without an update. I'm sure Christina Wynnwood would be most helpful to point out spelling or grammar to me in Doc-X, which I can update later.

I guess the rest of you will just have to suffer through reading any confusing parts for the time being. Please let me know if there is anything unmanageably confusing. Thanks, all, for reading!

* * *

**Knight - for lack of a better title****  
Chapter** **17**

The Potions Master muttered the password "kunekune" to the stone beasts guarding the staff room. He despised having to mutter that word, thinking of himself sounding like a mourning dove not fully transfigured into a horse: coo-nee-coo-nee. Severus did admit that so-named miniature and hairy New Zealand hogs with the occasional wattle were actually quite the conversation pieces.

The rock-hewn creatures yielded the entryway to the room. The eyesore on the left scraped its claws on the stone floor, as cheeky as ever, while Severus cringed at the fingernails-on-a-chalkboard torture. He was certain that the vile statue on the right was laughing as it swung out. The young professor had always detested these two monstrosities, especially after he had snuck into the mysterious staff room as a student. The overgrown pebbles had mounted a personal vendetta against him ever since.

It had been a terrible disappointment, as a student, to discover that the room was an entirely mundane place where no mischief could be had. Even the décor was more of the institutional sort, as though the castle simply wished for the faculty to quickly finish their business within and leave soon after. Along one wall were hung butterbeer steins emblazoned with each faculty member's name in firebolt-bright script. One might imagine all the pranks and fun to be had, such as contaminating a detestable professor's mug with Mackled Malaclaw excrement and waiting to see if a green rash shows up. However, if the dust and cobwebs on the steins were any indication, it was clear that even Peeves had long since given up practical jokes in this desolate waste of space.

Taking this into consideration, Severus was much agog at the sight that met his eyes upon entering the room. The stonking, curvaceous arse draped in the flowing cloak of one Sybil Trelawney was bent over in such a spectacularly inviting manner that he experienced an uncharacteristic lightheadedness. As the blood flow vacated his brain, a smooth, captivating scent of smoldering frankincense resin rushed in, along with a bizarre audio hallucination of The Raincoats' 1984 indie song "Ooh Ooh La La La."

The Divination Professor's warbling voice cut short his musical fantasy. "I knew you would stop by."

Severus tried to regain his senses by inhaling deeply. This led to the influx of even more sesquiterpenes into his brain's limbic system, further stimulating his memories and emotions.

"Why, you're speechless," Sybil commented in a halcyon voice. "I hadn't seen that in the leaves. But I'm sure you do know why we have crossed paths on such an inauspicious day."

His mood sufficiently altered by the properties of the incense oozing out of the mad woman's clothes, Severus was unable to produce a hint of a snide tone in his response. "Do enlighten me, Sybil."

She shuffled along, derrière poking high into the air, her hands busily grabbing little brown fungi bouncing on the ground. "How curious," she murmured and explained, "Pomona must wish to not disturb anyone else about the Leaping Toadstools that escaped her store room."

Severus looked more closely at the floor and noticed a mushroom frolicking in dizzying circles around his foot. He nearly bent to pick it up but stopped short, realizing that this recalcitrant variety of toadstools excreted entheogenic compounds that were easily absorbed through skin contact.

"You are not the help that I had predicted!" Sybil snapped at him, standing up quickly with an armful of the lively mushrooms captured in her knit shawl. She gazed at him in awe for a moment, and then broke into a crazed grin. "Your aura has transfigured into a skipping rope, Severus. How lovely!"

Severus forced his mental faculties into action, fighting the tranquility engulfing him. He conjured a square of parchment, touched it with his wand to scrawl a brief message, then magicked it into a flying paper crane which he released into the air. It flew straight through the room's stone wall and disappeared, prompting a shout of glee from the woman experiencing the psychoactive properties transmitted from the errant toadstools.

"May I examine your catch," Severus asked with extreme gentleness, wary of the effect that such a large dosage of hallucinogens might have on the professor.

Trelawney leaned away, hugging her bulging shawl close to her. "I think not!" she snarled, baring her teeth like a feral cat.

"Right. You would like to hand them over to our Herbology Professor yourself, is that it?"

The anger receded from Sybil's face and she smiled again. "Your aura tells me that your youthful lusts are very active."

"I can't imagine why it would tell you that," Severus growled, stepping closer to the Entrance Hall. The staff room doors had remained open all this time and he snarled at the guardstones, for they surely had neglected to close merely to spite him. He took no responsibility for his own failure to spell them shut upon entering. He had been too distracted by the view, after all.

Sybil's eyes roved over the body of her colleague. "Tobias speaks with a sultry voice, you know."

Severus snapped his head up at the mention of his father. "Never speak that name, again!" he seethed through a tight jaw.

Professor Trelawney tossed back her mane of long hair and laughed. "Your aura would be insulted if I did not dignify him with his name. Don't you see how dark and menacing he has become at your suggestion that I address him anonymously"

"My aura is dark," he snarled back, "because I hate that name! Now come with me to the infirmary this instant." He grasped her arm and pulled her out to the Entrance Hall.

She opened her mouth as if to scream at a vision of horror. It was cut short when Poppy Pomfrey appeared and ran to her with a long, fuzzy, lavender-infused blanket. The nurse draped it around Professor Trelawney's shoulders.

"Careful!" Severus warned, shifting his eyes to Leaping Toadstools attempting to poke through Sybil's bundle of shawl.

"Yes, I got your crane," the nurse replied. "I've doused myself in your Anti-Psychotic Anodyne. And seeing that I've had no reason to doubt the efficacy of your potions to date, I shan't begin now."

Professor Trelawney gasped with ecstatic joy. "Oh, what a magnificent mare your Patronus makes, Poppy!"

"How do you know my Patronus?" the matron asked with alarm.

"The Second Sight never lies! Why, this morning I read in the tea leaves that our dear Professor Snape would be a knight to rescue two damsels in distress this very day. Are you in need of any rescuing, Poppy, dear?"

"Certainly not," Madame Pomfrey bit out.

Severus was feeling rather generous, still under the influence of the frankincense and perhaps some airborne particles from the mushies. "Then I shall be off in search of distressed maidens."

"Yes. Do that," Poppy said without any real heed to him or his words.

He sent his Patronus to Albus to warn him of the deleterious Leaping Toadstools loose in the castle and to inform that he would promptly research in the library for any relevant information. Severus glanced at the great oak doors and thought it rather fortunate that most students were out of doors enjoying the weather and hopefully out of harm's way, as well. Then he set off through a hidden passage behind a snoring suit of armor.

He felt himself regaining more presence of mind as he traveled farther from Professor Trelawney's intoxicating vapors. It was a disappointment that his mood insisted on remaining terribly agreeable.

He reached the corridor's exit in front of the library. It was concealed in a painting of a door. Having once been a student who nearly keeled over from the fright of seeing what he thought was a portrait step out of that very painting—in actuality it had been Professor Slughorn—he slowly pulled the handle of the hingeless painting door inward and peeked out to make sure he did not scare anyone out of their wits.

Hearing the sarky tone of a familiar young Slytherin, the Potions Master leaned back into hiding. He did catch a glimpse of the pale blonde hair and opulent robes of Draco Malfoy, who still refused to part with the two chums the boy had known since infancy.

Draco sniggered, "Did you see that Mudblood's face when I told her my father donated the book?"

"She was right set to wet 'erself," Vincent Crabbe snorted out.

"I still don't get what she meant by computurd," Gregory Goyle mumbled and scratched his head as he passed in front of the hidden professor's line of sight.

"Another Muggle lie!" Draco gnarred with venom. "No Malfoy falls for philistine trickery. The little bitch made it all up because she's ashamed of being worth less than my house-elf Dobby."

Goyle's plodding footsteps halted. "I thought it was true, all that about her old school's library."

"Not even a wizard searches for a book on a web or in a stack of cards. How could it be true?" Draco scoffed. His voice turned cruel, sounding very much like the calculating older Malfoy. "Be careful, Goyle. Some people might get the idea that you're a Blood Traitor. No friend of mine will ever stoop as low as the Weasley litter."

The footsteps resumed and carried the three boys away from the library. Severus heard Vincent boast, "I didn't believe a word she said."

"That's a good wizard," Malfoy crooned.

The Potions Master slipped out of the painting and headed into the library. No students were at the tables and Irma Pince was not in sight. He wandered farther into the library until he saw a small round table scattered with books and a parchment covered with a penman's dream of perfect script.

He noticed an envelope stamped with "Royal Mail" and a strange patch in the corner. He picked it up and read that it was addressed to Miss H. J. Granger and was sent from University of Cambridge, International Examinations. As he toyed with the idea of reading the missive inside, he heard a sniffle and a girl's suppressed sob coming from the direction of Restricted Section.

Perhaps due to the lingering effect of the frankincense, he dismissed the fleeting thought of catching a delinquent student and instead recalled Sybil's latest prophesy of rescuing the needy.

Severus connected the words of Draco with the plight of the girl. His memory was jogged and he thought back to Lucius Malfoy's visit before the school year had commenced. That day the Potions Master had gladly accompanied father and son on an impromptu tour of the school. At the library, Severus had given blanket permission to Draco for use of Restricted resources, as a nod to the generous contributions that the Malfoy Foundation had made to Hogwarts and its library collection.

Hearing whimpers and the syncopated catches of breath that told of the child's weeping, Professor Snape looked down each Restricted aisle until he spotted Hermione Granger crouched on the floor with her back against a bookshelf. He paused to observe her shaking, rounded shoulders and the untamed mess of mousy brown hair splayed over her hidden face. He strode to her and took note of thin trickles of blood oozing from her right hand. Her left hand was clutched to her chest, raging with bleeding blisters, splotched with red and white.

The thought that Draco or any student had hexed the child was unlikely. This was a sophisticated combination of curses. He felt a source of dark energy emanating from Hermione. She looked up suddenly and he stared into the terrified slate orbs filling her bronze irises.

Then he saw the book in her lap. A gift to Hogwarts from his father, Draco had gloated. It clearly had dangerous magical properties, if the anguished girl's appearance gave a proper indication.

Hermione's lips twisted to form the whisper, "Please!"

Severus knelt on one knee and pushed the hair away from the trembling girl's face. "Hush," he breathed to her, pressing his fingers to her clammy forehead.

"It's hurting me," she whispered. She looked at her right hand. "I'm bleeding."

"Yes, I know," Severus assured her.

"I tried," she sobbed. Taking a wheezing deep breath she began again. "I tried to put the book back!" A frightened whine came out of her throat. "It punished me," she concluded in a hoarse voice, lifting up her severely burned hand.

The Potions Master felt another angry wave of dark magic flowing from the book in Hermione's lap. Only a very powerful wizard or witch could have dealt with the cursed book alone. The girl would certainly go mad or even die if left with no help.

He was aware that the Leaping Toadstool crisis would monopolize Albus and Poppy. It seemed that Sybil had made yet another accurate prophecy, since he had alerted Poppy of the Divination Professor's shroom overdose and he determined to personally see to Hermione's recovery from the book's dark magic.

"I want to go home." The defeated plea from the child brought Severus' attention back to her. Her face was growing more pale, the flow of blood continuing to trickle out of her hand.

"Miss Granger," he said in a firm voice, "I must use very strong magic. You will lose consciousness after I say the incantation. Prepare yourself to wake up in the Potions wing. Can you understand me?"

She nodded solemnly, shivering now.

Severus chanted "_Tego Texi Tectum_" and waved his wand around his entire body, from head to foot. He could see the disoriented girl trying to memorize the exact words. Not wanting her to reduplicate his next spell, he wordlessly pointed his wand at her. A flash like lightning flowed from his wand and encompassed her body, followed by a near-deafening clap of sound caused by the rapidly dispersed energy. Within the glowing light, Hermione was frozen, suspended between life and death, timeless and completely unaware. The cursed book remained inside the cocoon when he lifted her into his arms.


	18. Encapsulation of Evil

**July 8, 2011  
**My thanks to Christina Wynwood for Beta Reading and for being a friend as I struggle to become a professional writer. I do appreciate the reviews I have received and the continuing Favoriting of this story by new and returning readers. **  
**

**Encapsulation of Evil**  
Chapter 18

Two pairs of running footsteps clacked over the library's stone floors. "What is the meaning of this disturbance in my library?" Irma Pince rounded the corner of a towering bookshelf, seething like the undead in lust for blood. Then she gasped, her eyes focusing on the unconscious student embalmed in the glint of fierce protective magic. "You've invoked _Malum Circundo _on a child," she nearly whispered.

From behind her Argus Filch appeared. Severus tried to ignore the unshaven man as he shoved his button-down shirt into his dark trousers, adjusted the fly and tightened his flimsy black belt. Madam Pince glanced at Mr. Filch and pursed her lips in annoyance.

"Students using magic out of classrooms, I tol' you," the Caretaker grumbled, peering past Severus to size up the amount of blood pooled on the floor. "Made a right mess of it an' left me to clean up the filth." He mumbled indiscernible curse words as he shuffled off.

Madam Pince's aquiline eyes focused on Hermione's burned and blistered hand and then they drifted to the pool of blood behind Severus. "What have you done, Severus?" she accused.

"I have saved the life of a student," he replied, his voice bristling with indignity, "whose hands wandered across a cursed book in your special collection."

Irma crossed her arms tightly over her chest. "So the bookworm thought she could sneak into the Restricted Section, did she? Maybe the little fool is earning her just deserts."

Severus felt annoyance protruding through the bridge of his nose, begging him to squeeze the frustration into naught. "If you had been present, the entire misadventure could have been avoided."

The librarian quirked her head with a sudden, jerky movement. "I had no reason to think she would get herself into trouble. She's been in here every day this week – probably every free moment."

Severus looked down at the frail girl with her face frozen in torment. For the first time he noticed that her large front teeth looked so out of place. He wondered if this was a part of the curse from the book.

Madam Pince clicked her tongue and gibed, "Are you suggesting that before I get her guts for garters, I ought to inquire after the three students from your House who were in the library earlier."

Professor Snape glowered at his colleague. "My students informed me of the dire peril that the girl was in, prompting me to search for her while you were having it off with—"

"There is nothing between Mr. Filch and me," Irma screeched.

"If he were a wizard you suppose he would leave something between you," Severus sneered.

Irma hissed, "I would never partner with a Squib."

Severus growled back, "Your shame is precisely the problem, Irma. You finally find a man who admires you and what do you give him in return? A reminder that his plums don't grow on the right kind of tree. Do you have any idea what that does to a man like Argus?"

Her face turned crimson and she looked away.

Having made his point, Severus continued, "Ask the Head of Gryffindor to collect her student's books as well as a letter which will undoubtedly interest her. Should she inquire after her student, I am taking Ms. Granger to my office to deal with the dark curses properly. The infirmary is most certainly overrun with children exposed to entheogenic Leaping Toadstools. You would do well to ask Poppy for a dosage of APA for Argus, unless you wish to experiment with hallucinogens."

Severus strode out of the library, holding the girl close to his chest. He willed the painting's doorway to open for him and he stepped inside. Instead of walking through the secret passage, he formed a desperate image of the Dungeon in his mind. He felt the stone floor gliding lower and lower, like a lift on an invisible pulley. When the movement stopped, he opened his eyes and found that the door of the secret passage now opened into the Dungeon.

"Thank you," he whispered to the castle. He was not one to abuse what the castle offered. It was only in times of crisis that he took advantage of the rewards for being its loyal servant.

With a brisk pace he carried Hermione to his office and commanded the door to open. He walked into the dark shadows of the dismal place. The scent of potions ingredients filled his senses.

"Severus!" The Headmaster's voice echoed through the Dungeon corridor. The old man rushed into the Potions Office.

"I was with Minerva and Poppy in the infirmary when Irma told us about the Granger girl," he said through huffing and puffing. Peering at the unconscious body in the Potions Master's arms, he lamented, "She looks like she's been through the War."

Severus grimaced at the memories of the Wizarding War and the cruelty of the Dark Lord. "As pathetic as that?"

Albus looked Severus in the eyes. "I suppose I've seen worse. You've taken necessary precautions, by the looks of the spell placed on her. I'm afraid the infirmary is a bit crowded at the moment."

"I figured as much. That is why I brought her to my office which has everything I will need." Severus fixed his dark eyes on the Headmaster in a challenge.

"Everything except an infirmary cot," Albus mused.

"Damn it!" the professor swore. "I cannot work with Poppy hovering over the child."

The Headmaster stroked his beard. "That won't be necessary." With a steady hand, the elderly man pointed his wand at the hard wooden chairs placed in front of the desk. They whisked closer to the fireplace as the wizard swept the wand in a graceful arc. Then they transformed into a four poster bed with hospital white silk hangings and a comfortable chair. Another flick had flames leaping from the fireplace.

"Will you be needing anything from St. Mungo's?" Albus enquired. "I have opened the floo network if you need it."

Severus stole his gaze from the transfigured furniture. "Thank you." He let the simple words fill the room. When he carried the girl to the bed, the silk privacy curtains opened of their own volition. The Potions Master lay Hermione on the white sheets and shook out his fatigued arms, the muscles burning from holding her for so long.

Albus levitated the cursed book, careful not to remove it from the protective charm surrounding the child. "Very rare," Albus commented. "A hand-painted original, but overlaid with secrets of dark magic. The child is lucky to be alive. I didn't know our library owned William Blake's The Marriage of Heaven and Hell."

"A gift from Lucius Malfoy," Severus commented, "if Draco's boasting is to be trusted."

"Why does that not surprise me?" Albus muttered. "That hot-headed wizard will pay for his rash decisions one day. Mark my words."

"Yes, well, perhaps we should sort it out properly before we call the Dementors," Severus retorted. "I found her in the Restricted Section. I suspect that Draco lacked knowledge about true nature of the book's pure blood protections. I will be saddling the boy with a detention and a discussion with Lucius."

"You've thought it all out then. But should I really trust you to work alone with the girl given the nature of your relationship with her?"

"She is a child!" Severus spit. He grabbed hold of the Headmaster's velvet robe. "Look at her. Look at her! Do you see anything in her miserable suffering that would tempt a man? Anything at all?"

Albus wrested the hands off his robe. "Her helpless state is the temptation. Don't you want her to beg you for mercy, to promise to anything, if only you will end her suffering?"

"No, I don't," Severus snarled. "If you cannot control your disgusting impulses, then leave us."

Albus gave a knowing smile. "You are a sincere man, Severus. A man of integrity. I hate to ask, but I must. Do you wish for any assistance from Quirinus. This is his specialty, after all."

Severus shouted, "He is useless! Every year you parade a new Defense Master in front of me and they all fail miserably. Why, Albus?"

"Yes, they do fail. Surely you are familiar with someone who was denied this post before you ever were."

"It is a cruel to punish me for my association with the Dark Lord year after year."

Albus put a rough hand on Severus' shoulder. "I do not associate you with Voldemort." Severus had gotten used to not showing his discomfort when the mark under his skin writhed. "It is he who has doomed every successive Defense Against the Dark Arts Master to failure. I will not appoint you until I am sure of your success."

Severus hung his head. The puzzle pieces clicked together. He hated not having discovered the truth by himself.

"You and Miss Granger have a destiny to sort out, Severus. I trust that you will not fail her." The headmaster gave a more friendly squeeze to his Potion Master's shoulder before leaving him.

Severus strode to the warming fire and grabbed a pinch of floo powder from a small bucket on the mantle. Kneeling in front of the fireplace, he threw the powder and leaned into the green flames, stating, "Malfoy Manor."


	19. Heaven and Hell

**July 11, 2011**  
Christina Wynnwood was Beta reader and I am grateful. I did make some changes, a few of which may have some errors. Please pardon my eagerness to get this chapter posted as I move on to writing the next chapter.

The number of reviews after last chapter buoyed my enthusiasm for writing this story. Thank you for taking time to comment about it. As much as I love a pat on the back, negative criticism can be helpful, too. I respect those who make an effort to explain why they don't enjoy my style of writing. It can be difficult to put that kind of sentiment into words.

* * *

**Heaven and Hell**  
Chapter 19

Severus knelt in front of the stone fire place to placed a floo call to Malfoy Manor. He threw in the floo powder and leaned into the green flames. Various hearths flashed before his eyes while his body remained in the Potions Office.

The movement stopped and he was staring through cast iron bars at a lavish marble floor. "Lucius Malfoy!" the professor shouted, anger getting the best of him.

A young house-elf stumbled toward the fire. "Puccio greets guest of Malfoy Manor," the little creature said, bowing low and trembling.

"Still minted enough to afford yet another house elf," Severus muttered. "Remove this blasted grate and bring Lucius to the floo. It is urgent Hogwarts business."

The elf grasped the heavy grate and moved it to the side. He had burned his finger tips and was shaking them out, jumping madly in a circle and calling out its pain.

"Go on! Get a move on it," Severus ordered.

Puccio ran out of the room. Severus observed on the opposite wall a magnificent portrait of Brutus Malfoy. The 17th century wizard stared at the floo with an arrogant glare. In the background stood the opulent Chateau de Malfoi on the Bay of Cannes. Copies of Warlock at War were shelved below the portrait. The effect of this welcome left no doubts about the Malfoys' continuing Anti-Muggle beliefs.

Light clacking sounded on the marble floor. Narcissa Malfoy appeared and sank on her knees before the glowing ashes. "Severus! Is Draco all right? Has anything happened?"

"Your son is fine, Narcissa," the professor assured the svelte woman . "I must speak to Lucius. It is urgent."

"He is at the Ministry," she answered. "Board of governors meeting."

"When will he return?" he snapped.

"By dinner, I suppose. What is the matter, Severus?"

"I prefer to discuss it with Lucius. Send him a message, will you?"

"Yes, of course."

"A student has been injured by an artifact imbued with dark magic. I believe he knows how to proceed. The floo network is open to my office today. Have him come as soon as he can."

Narcissa covered her ruby lips with delicately manicured fingers. "I will see to it. You'll keep watch on Draco for me, won't you?"

"Yes, yes. I will report all of his latest activities to Lucius. Now then, this floo call cannot be good for my aching knees. I must go." Severus pulled his head out of the fireplace. When he stood his knees creaked and popped.

Severus turned to the bed draped in pure white, so out of place in a room lit with weary candles that cast ghastly shadows over the bottles of potions ingredients. When he went to the child and leaned over her, an anxious knot gripped his intestines. After taking a deep breath, he drew his wand. "_Finite Incantatem._"

Hermione curled up, her face contorted with pain. She held back a sob.

"_Accio_ dittany." A vial of brown liquid flew to the Potions Master. With a steady hand, he released a drop on each cut on her palm. The bleeding clotted and the incisions healed over leaving only pink, raw traces. He measured a drop on each side of her burnt hand. It instantly cooled and the blisters dried.

Hermione whimpered, "Where am I?"

"You are in the Potions Office, Miss Granger."

She looked around at the bed. "Look into my eyes," Severus requested as he examined her dilated pupils. "Do you feel faint?"

She shook her head to indicate "no" and then she groaned. "So dizzy."

"Lay down," he commanded.

"I never thought school for witches would be so painful, Sir," she confessed with a quivering voice. "I want to go home. It is so lonely here." Her voice had a dreamlike quality as she rambled on.

"You are in my care, Hermione," Severus soothed in his clarinet voice. With a flick of his wand, a goblet of restorative potion flew to his waiting hand. "Can you drink this?"

She nodded and tried to sit up. He supported her back with his arm. When her hand was shaking so much that the potion sloshed over the rim, he held it to her lips.

"All of it," he prompted in a gentle voice. She gave a disagreeable frown but managed to drink it down, leaving only the dregs. "Rest now."

She clung to the front of his robes. "Don't leave me alone with this book. Stay with me. Please!"

Without thinking, Severus smoothed the frizzy hair off her forehead. "Shhhh! I am not leaving."

She would not let go. Her knuckles were white, clenching the black linen robe in her hands so tightly.

At this moment, a flare of green reflected off the walls of the office. Severus turned to see Lucius Malfoy stepping out of the fire. He flicked ashes off his robes with a distinguished flair.

"What was so urgent that Narcissa bothered me while – egad, Severus. Why do you have a bed in your office? Pursuing carnal knowledge, are you? And Cissy said a student was …"

The handsome wizard seemed to notice the child clinging to Severus at that moment. Severus could not help himself from laying a protective arm across Hermione's shoulders.

Lucius' eyes widened in morbid curiosity. He glanced at the girl and the crimson drips that stained the pristine sheets.

Severus pulled away from the child and tried to smooth wrinkles out of the linen robe. "This student was injured by a cursed book. Since you are an expert on such matters, I hoped you could tell me how to treat her injuries."

A swagger possessed the wizard. He approached the child and stated, "Yes, I am Lucius Malfoy. Do I know your family, Miss—?"

When Lucius paused for her answer, Severus intervened. "You would not know her parents."

She squeaked. "My parents are Muggles."

Lucius took a step back, disgust on his face. "How can you stand to be so close?" he asked Severus.

The professor growled, "You would let her die, then?" He pointed at the hand-bound book in Hermione's lap.

Lucius snatched the book from Hermione before Severus could give warning. He flipped through the pages and experienced no harm or discomfort. "Ah. Heaven and Hell. So it chose this Mud— "

Severus pointed his wand at Lucius' face. "Do not say that foul word."

Hermione stared up at the wizards facing off. When Lucius stepped back from the point of Severus' wand, she scrambled off the bed and grabbed the book from Lucius. "Give it back. It will punish me again! Give me!" she screamed in hysterics.

Lucius relinquished the book. He took notice of her left hand that was not quite healed from the burns. Then he looked back to Severus. "Why haven't you let her finish reading it? Her pain will only grow worse the longer she waits."

"What will grow worse, Lucius?" Severus snarled at Lucius.

"Aren't you familiar with this book?"

"I am not," Severus seethed.

"It chooses the reader. It recognizes the wizard or witch who is receptive to its teachings. Once chosen, the reader may not stop. The pain only grows worse the longer the reader takes to read the book."

"How does this work?"

Lucius gave a malevolent grin. "Only those who are chosen will understand."

Severus grabbed the book and felt a searing pain of cuts on his palm. He glared at Lucius. "What is the meaning of this?"

"You'd best read the damnable book with the child. The girl will experience much more suffering than you, given the length of time she has been in possession of it. Once you have been cut by every page, you will be able to pick it up without further harm."

"So Draco knowingly inflicted a student but he did not tell her how to cope with it?"

Lucius blanched. "Draco. I see. I will return in the evening to discuss his involvement. I expect you will have completed the book by then, Severus. Do not delay." The tall wizard turned to the floo and grabbed a handful of powder. When the flames turned green, he stepped through and was gone.

Severus was left alone with Hermione and the deceptively harmless-looking book.

* * *

**A/N:** I recently discovered CBBC's _Young Dracula_ two-season show on You Tube. I wonder if anyone else thinks that Count Dracula (Keith-Lee Castle) would make an amusing Snape for a video. There is a brilliant clip of the Count with his estranged wife in Season 2, Episode 10 that would make a delightful scene of Severus and Hermione when she appeared as a succubus earlier in this story. Alas, I do not have experience in video editing and the TV show is only available as You Tube clips at present. A third season was recently filmed. (It picks up four years after the last season finale in 2008, I believe.)


	20. Heaven After Hell

**July 17, 2011**

I truly appreciate the Beta reading from Christina Wynnwood. She is very helpful to take note of passages that can be improved and clarified. If there are spelling errors, it's all me. I do loads of rewriting after I get the Beta'd material back.

You probably noticed that this story is written entirely from the vantage point of Severus Snape. If you want to read Hermione's point of view, I have started _Memoirs of a Mudblood Succubus._ That story is first-person, present tense so the style should be different than _SSO_.

* * *

**Heaven After Hell  
Chapter 20**

Severus had given the closed book back to the girl standing next to him. He now applied Dittany to several bleeding cuts on his own hand. Without intending to, he began to lecture: "Pure Essence of Dittany must be sourced from the plant that is known by some Muggles as False Dittany and by many clerics as the Burning Bush. For healing purposes, the essence is obtained from leaves and stems rather than the fragrant blooms. When used on a person who resonates with the living practice of magic, only a small amount is needed to heal the flesh and restore the skin."

Hermione seemed to be memorizing his words. He had seen the same expression when she sat in Double Potions on Friday.

"Your pain seems to have abated. I don't see that we will need this bed any longer," he explained as he waved his wand and it returned to the shape of a hard chair. He looked to the cozy armchair transfigured by Albus and muttered, "But it would be pleasant to have another comfortable chair."

He clamped his eyes shut and concentrated for a moment before he pointed the wand at the hard chair and gave it a flick. A copy of Dumbledore's creation appeared for an instant until there was a snap and a crunch. The new chair split in two, falling apart and spilling white stuffing like a wooly sheep undergoing shearing.

Hermione was stunned. Then she covered her mouth and tried to stifle a laugh. When the professor's glare took aim at her, she quickly composed herself and took several steps back.

He moved toward her and she widened her eyes in alarm, stepping ever closer to the fire.

"The book," he explained. "Do not take it far from me."

She nodded in understanding and stood closer to him.

Looking down at her, he ran his hand through his hair. "We all have strengths," Severus began. He felt the heat rising in his face. He couldn't make himself admit his weakness in Transfiguration.

The girl looked at him with a wise sort of smile. "Since you had no trouble restoring the transfigured bed …"

Severus nodded. "Yes, I could modify the chair made by the Headmaster. That is rather clever of you."

She said nothing but only watched him with expectation. He saw implicit belief that he would succeed in her eyes and this bolstered his confidence. He concentrated on the desired result and waved his wand. The chair extended into a small sofa of sorts, looking comfortable and spacious for the two of them.

Then he flicked at the broken chair and it disappeared all together. With satisfaction he wandlessly added another log onto the fire. "I suppose I had best test the chair first, though it may make me look unmannered."

Hermione did not respond. As he took a seat he muttered, "Maybe customs such as 'ladies first' have no currency any longer."

She sat next to him and handed him the book with shaking hands. Then he understood her silence was caused by fear. He opened the book and began to read it. When he turned the page without incident, he thought aloud, "I received a cut for each page that had already been opened when I took up the book. Now I must catch up with you."

She still said nothing but simply scanned the pages as he read and then flipped them. There was no writing on the backs of the pages as they were painted on one side only. When he reached the sixth page, she sat up and pointed to a heading midway through the page. "There. 'A Memorable Fancy.' That is where I gave up reading before you found me."

Now he chose to be mute and read the page. He observed from the corner of his eye that she bent forward to read the bottom of the page. When she straightened, he asked, "How did you come by this book, Miss Granger?"

"Draco Malfoy offered to help me with my literature studies."

"Literature is not part of the curriculum at Hogwarts."

"Oh, I know. I am studying my IGSCEs," she commented with nonchalance.

"IG … what do you mean?"

"My International General Certificates of Secondary Education," she stated. "I began studying as soon as my parents agreed that I would attend Hogwarts. Since no one could tell me where the school was located, I chose the International option, of course."

"For what purpose do you need a certificate of education? Is Hogwarts not good enough?" he scoffed.

"I can hardly enter Undergraduate Studies without a certificate!"

"Undergraduate? You cannot mingle wizardry with Muggle life," he admonished.

"Is that so?" she answered with such conviction that Severus remained speechless. "We'll see about that. But I believe we have a much darker education at hand before any of that can happen."

He turned the page and was startled by a shriek. The child clutched her hand as thick blood dripped from it. _A punishment for delaying for so long to resume reading_, Severus thought. He grasped the vial of Dittany and put a drop on her gash. She breathed in with relief.

"Oh, of course, page seven would introduce the Proverbs of Hell," she said dryly. "This will be interesting."

Their heads inclined together as they read. When they both looked up, Severus asked, "Are you prepared to continue?"

Hermione wilted into the seat. "Is there no way to avoid the pain?"

Severus looked into her weary eyes that no longer shone with their pleasant banter. Dread painted her forehead in shadowy creases.

"Too much dittany could have detrimental effects." He stroked his chin. "But Essence of Murtlap works well against wounds inflicted by magic. Yes, it is worth a try."

"What is?"

" _Accio_ Murtlap draft in saucer." Clattering noise erupted after Severus spoke the charm.

Hermione leaned across Severus to see a barrel lid hovering and a ladle pouring liquid into shallow porcelain bowl. "Well done," she murmured.

Severus looked at her sternly. "It is a combination of spoken and unspoken charms. Do not try to imitate it."

She bunched up her lips in disappointment as the saucer glided toward them. Severus took it from the air and held it to her. "Hold this in your good hand for a moment."

A white handkerchief flew to him. He folded it into a tight square and let it absorb a small amount of liquid. "I will use this cloth on my cuts. Now I'll hold the saucer while you soak the palm of your hand. I believe it will gradually reduce your suffering."

She lowered her hand into the purplish brine. After two minutes she looked back to her professor.

"You won't feel any pain relief yet, but we should continue to read," he suggested.

Together they turned the page. She winced at the new gash in her hand. "Soak it right away, Hermione," he urged with tenderness.

She lowered her hand and looked on as a blood plumed into the liquid. "It doesn't heal as quickly as Dittany, does it?" Her eyes were disappointed.

"You are right," he responded, pressing the white cloth to the palm of his hand. "If you continue to soak your hand, perhaps it will gradually lesson the power of the curse itself. Are you able to continue? We would have to wait thirty minutes before we apply Dittany instead."

"So nice of you to mention that now," she squeezed out of her pain-contorted mouth.

Severus raised his wand and provided a numbing spell on her right hand.

"What happened? My hand is tingling."

"Is it better than the pain?" he challenged.

"Well, yes, but—"

"Then we should continue to read. Don't take your hand out of the Murtlap Essence!"

"Fine," she answered and looked at the page.

Seeing that her hand strayed again, he realized that she lacked sensation. He guided her hand back then joined her in perusing the page.

They read together for a moment before she snickered. "Look at this one. 'The lust of the goat is the bounty of God.' Now I know where that phrase 'old goat' came from."

Severus was amused by her thoughts. Keeping a straight face, he pointed out another line from the book. "I'd have to agree with this one. 'The nakedness of woman is the work of God.'" He quickly amended, "But that is neither here nor there."

The child gave a look of bafflement. "Gross."

Her response irked him so much that he scoffed, "Is it gross? What do you know of the nakedness of woman?"

She set her face in proud determination. "I happen to be a girl. If you would take a look at me, you'd soon realize that there is nothing divine about my sorry arse."

Severus lowered the book. "Do not say such things about yourself."

"Why not? It is true." She raised the book higher and pointed to a line at the bottom of the page. "See. Right here. 'Always be ready to speak your mind, and a base man will avoid you.' Top that."

Severus rolled his eyes. "You've finished reading the page, then," he confirmed as he released the numbing charm from her hand.

"The pins and needles feeling is gone," she said with a surprised gasp.

"How is your hand now?"

She lifted it out of the Murtlap Essence and let the drips slide off. She wiped her hand and reached to turn the page with trepidation. Once again, cuts appeared on each of their hands the moment she touched the page.

"Well, that was more tolerable," she commented.

Severus felt pleased due to his correct discernment of the efficacy of soaking Hermione's hand. He felt tension in his shoulders relax.

They read in silence once again. Before long, the girl had yet another comment. Her verbosity was proof that she was no longer under duress. The Potions Master hid his self-satisfied smile behind a yawn.

"Now, look here. It reads: 'The weak in courage is strong in cunning.' Oh, so that's the great secret of Slytherin, then, isn't it?" She laughed. Some of the bloody purple liquid spilled onto their legs.

He waved the spill away with his wand and set his own tone to match her scathing wit. "You are aware that the Sorting Hat has already spoken. It's a bit late to be divining the secrets of another House. Am I right in thinking that you wish to defect from Gryffindor?"

"I wouldn't want to join those Slytherin hooligans," she retorted, seeming to forget to whom she was speaking. "I was merely curious if cowardice was the true pride of Slytherin," she mocked.

He nodded at the page. "Let's see what the Proverbs have to say about that. Yes, right here. 'The apple tree never asks the beech how he shall grow, nor the _lion_, the horse, how he shall take his prey.'" Severus intentionally emphasized the lion of Gryffindor.

She took his counter without shame. "Ah. I am a fast learner. 'When thou seest an Eagle, thou seest a portion of Genius.' You are the Master." A begrudging respect for the professor formed in her eyes.

He deflected the flattery, saying, "Let's see that hand."

She held her arm out for him. The cut had sealed itself. He decided that Essence of Murtlap was no where near as fast-acting as the Dittany; nevertheless, she did not seem to be in very much pain.

When she turned the page again, she still let out an involuntary gasp. But then placed the cut skin in the saucer. Severus pressed the soaked handkerchief to his own bloody palm.

In a slow, tricky voice Hermione commented, "If I needed proof, here it is. See what it says? 'If the lion was advised by the fox…'"

Severus quickly located the line. With amusement, he finished the statement, "'… he would be cunning.' Are you saying that you've been outfoxed, Miss Granger?"

Hermione smiled. "We shall see." She went back to reading and Severus imagined that dark secrets were being written within her soul.

This time when he turned the page, she did not even flinch or bother to look at her hand. He knew the Murtlap was having the desired effect against the curse and he congratulated himself without fanfare.

The new page was filled with prose. The Proverbs of Hell were concluded. They read at a leisurely pace without discussion. There weren't any witty sayings to banter about. It was all very heady.

Turning the pages without fear now, Hermione seemed to absorb every word. Then they turned the last page together. Hermione lifted her hand to see that it was barely bleeding at all. She read the very last line of the book aloud: "'For everything that lives is Holy.'"

With that, she shut the book in her lap. At that exact moment, three flashes of white light startled them. Each of Hermione's hands flashed with brilliant light as did the right hand of Severus. The saucer of blood-tainted Essence of Murtlap vanished. Severus took both her hands to inspect them. There were no traces of scars at all, no cuts and no burns whatsoever.

The child plied his hand in return. She looked it over with curiosity. Then she gave a relieved smile to him.

Severus perceived that he had just shared a mystical experience with an eleven-year-old girl. He found that no words … no logic, even … could describe what had happened.

He felt an intimacy with the child that went far beyond his crude lovemaking with that tempting succubus, the Headmistress. A day later when their wands had flashed and entwined them to each other so extravagantly, he still had not experienced the total reality of their conjoined lives. Now he felt a pang for communion with the child but he had no tangible means of cementing such a union without offending his own principles.

Interrupting his thoughts, Hermione's lovely hand ingratiated itself into his. She was a child seeking comfort from a trusted guardian and she snuggled against him, her arm molding against his. She rested her head just below his shoulder and the book slipped off her lap, making hardly a noise when it touched the ground.

He ventured a look at her face with the closed eyes and slack mouth. Her chest rose and fell in a soothing rhythm and he dared not stir. He simply listened to her light breaths until his own eyelids grew so heavy that he could not bear to keep them open. All that existed in the world was the warm body next to him. Surrendering to sleep next to the child was alien, as foreign as the concept that others called "companionship."

* * *

**A/N:** The Alchemy Web Site lists The Marriage of Heaven and Hell as an alchemical text: _http:/ www. levity. com/ alchemy/ blake_ma. html_. (Make sure you copy and paste the entire address and then remove the spaces!)

An annotated version of The Marriage of Heaven and Hell with beautiful images of the hand-painted pages is online at _http:/__utilizing. angelfire. com/ texts_and_quotes/ blake01.__html_. William Blake invented this "illuminated" style of book printing and his wife helped him paint the print versions. I had thought to have Hermione get her hands cut on the copper plates used for the printing but I opted for her to discover the paper version instead.


	21. Opening the Doors of Perception

**July 27, 2011**

I meant to get farther along in this chapter, but I kept adding Severus-Hermione relationship content to make the coming deep philosophical shizz easier to take. I barely touch the surface of what I planned to write. Maybe it is better that way.

Please forgive my errors. I've decided not to Beta this chapter even though it would certainly help. The reason is that I'm just sick of looking at the alchemy-related material and I want to move on to the rest of the story.

I hope that most of this chapter is straightforward and easy to understand. I haven't gotten to the difficult explanations yet, which should be in the following chapter.

* * *

**Opening the Doors of Perception**  
**Chapter 21**

The Potions Master was draped on a settee in his office, his head lolling back and his black hair brushing against a head of frizzy ringlets of auburn hair. Hermione Granger dozed in casual blue jeans and a periwinkle tee shirt, her bare arm entwined around the black-linen-robed arm of her teacher. The professor's legs were sprawled at odd angles and one pressed against her leg.

He shifted, dappling the country rose upholstery, and groaned at the sharp pain of a crick in his neck. His student molded herself to his body, snuggling his arm. He lifted his head and smiled with affection at the sight of the wild, long hair that obscured her face.

Severus sat up slowly, his muscles complaining at his long-held awkward position. He gently rubbed the girl's arm until she uncurled her legs and rubbed her eyes with fisted hands. He stood and walked to the fireplace, leg joints popping. With a flick of his wand he added a new log to the fire to dispel the late afternoon chill of the dungeons.

He watched Hermione's wide-mouthed yawn and luxurious kitten stretch. With a demure voice, she confessed, "I am so relieved to be done with that book."

He rubbed his sore neck. "Would you like to have dinner here while we discuss what happened?"

She stood and straightened the wrinkled creases on her jeans. "Now that you mention it, I am a bit hungry."

Severus tapped his desk with his wand and the papers and potions whisked themselves to a side table. In their place appeared a soup tureen, a bowl of mashed potatoes and a carafe of milk. Two settings of wide, flat bowls, silverware and goblets were arranged side-by-side. With a snap of his fingers, two stools appeared next to the desk.

Hermione shuffled to the desk and lifted the cover off the soup, inhaling deeply. "Hmmm," she grinned. "Lamb stew." She slid onto a stool and sat with her hands on her lap, looking up at Severus.

He lowered himself onto the stool. "You may serve yourself," he said with a nod to the stew and potatoes. She ladled several scoops of meat and barley gravy into her bowl and then handed the long-handled silver scoop to her teacher. As he filled his own bowl, he commented, "Your appetite is good. You must be recovering well."

She smiled, showing her protruding front teeth as she added a spoonful of potatoes to her dish. "This is one of my favorite meals." She waited with her hands in her lap again.

"Is something wrong?" Severus asked as he added a dollop of the creamy, white tatties to his bowl.

The First Year ducked her head and shrugged. "Having dinner with you made me reminisce about dinners at home. You see, since I've arrived at Hogwarts, I've had to eat alone. Sure, at the opening feast I had a pleasant conversation with Percy Weasley but, you know, he doesn't want to spend his time fraternizing with a First Year. To make a long story short, I suppose I was waiting for the blessing, the way Dad always insisted at home," she confessed in one long, rushed breath.

Severus held out his hand to Hermione with an open palm. She lifted her head and stared at him with a perplexed expression until he explained, "My own father insisted upon holding hands when he said grace."

Her eyes widened and she tentatively put her hand in his. "Erm … would you do the honors?"

"Given today's reading," Severus intoned gently as he met her eyes, "a quote from the Proverbs of Hell ought to suffice." He squeezed her hand and recited, "The bird a nest, the spider a web, man friendship."

She returned the warm embrace with her fingers and then quickly disengaged to grab a linen napkin and to dab her eyes with it. "Thank you," she smiled as a tear escaped down her cheek.

A frown governed the face of the professor. "Drink some milk," he ordered, looking down at his bowl.

Hermione sniffled. "I'm sorry," she whispered then cleared her throat before pouring herself a goblet of warm milk from the decanter.

Severus ate a spoonful of the lamb and commented, "It is quite good. You should try some."

Hermione tasted the gravy and tatties. Her teacher watched her savor the flavor, slowly masticating before swallowing. "Oh, this is better than Mum's. She tends to burn the butter before adding the onions and lamb. And she usually doesn't even bother with mashing tatties if she's already cooked barley."

Severus lowered his spoon and said, "Hogwarts is known to woo homesick students with the food."

Hermione smiled as she toyed with the chunks of meat in her bowl. "It must also know how to provide companionship for the lonely."

Severus experienced warmth in his soul, a feeling that Hermione's spirit had entered his heart to anoint him with affection. He did not dare to look at her eyes for fear that he would betray his physical desires. He was sure that the lonesome child would all too easily succumb to his lusts even if she had no apprehension of erotic passion.

They ate without discussion, their slurping and chewing gradually replaced by the noise of spoons scraping empty bowls. When they were sated, the meal vanished.

A dessert course appeared. The desk served up a gold-rimmed plate of brie and sliced baguette, a lead crystal bowl brimming full of golden raspberries and a spherical, dark bottle of Chambord with its lustrous crown atop. Dainty china plates decorated with red poppy patterns and crystal liqueur glasses with gold leaf stalks of wheat set before them.

Hermione spread brie on a slice of baguette as Severus poured the sanguine raspberry liqueur into his glass. "I should think that you could easily metabolize a spot of Chambord, given our heavy meal. It is a very sweet liqueur with somewhat low alcohol content."

Hermione replied with indifference, "Oh, my parents allow me to drink dessert liqueurs as long as I am with a responsible adult."

"Perhaps I qualify, then," Severus remarked as he filled her glass.

"I should think so."

As she lifted the ruby drink and smelled its bouquet, he advised, "Go easy."

They each took a sip. "It is very sweet," Hermione commented. "It complements the brie perfectly."

"I take no credit for it. The kitchen made the selection," he answered with modesty. They nibbled on the autumn raspberries and the cheese and enjoyed the aperitif.

"Did you gain any benefit from reading _The Marriage of Heaven and Earth_?" the professor asked as their polite conversation waned.

"Well," she drew out her thoughts, "I was fascinated by one of the Memorable Fancies, Hell's Printing House in particular."

"I see where your fascination with libraries comes from," he smirked.

She laughed and it was musical. "Once a bookworm, always a bookworm. Quite honestly, though, the six chambers were rich with symbolism on many levels. There was his own craft of etching copper plates, then there was Christian symbolism and the work of the alchemists. His familiarity with Paracelsus was evident."

Severus stood. "I want to hear what you understood about it. Come. Let's return to the sofa. Bring your liqueur if you like."

The child wiped her face with the white napkin before folding it and placing it in the exact center of her plate. She brushed crumbs of baguette off her lap and carried the little glass of raspberry liqueur to the transfigured seat.

Severus sat close and draped his arm over her shoulder, wrapping around her like a quilt. She snuggled close, grinning up. Severus savored the still-sweet Chambord on her breath mingled with the cheese. "You're holding me just like Daddy does," she laughed.

_Her 'daddy' had surely never had the desire to drink her merry little lips, _he protested. "Tell me more about the Memorable Fancy." He brushed his nose against her hair near her ear. Unwashed, her natural odor was intensified. It burned into his memory as his magic wand once again throbbed with lust.

She curled up her legs and hugged them to her body before turning her head to gaze into his eyes. "There were six chambers … one for each stage of acquiring knowledge," she began in reverie. She stared at the far wall of potions ingredients as she talked.

Severus lit a few more candles in the office. "How much of it did you understand?"

She rested her head on his chest and yawned. "All of it."

"Do you care to enlighten me," he prompted her as he withdrew his arm.

"Stay," she whispered, drawing his arm across her shoulders once again. "I'll tell you if you stay right here."

"Are you frightened, Miss Granger?"

"No. Well, yes. Truthfully, I just want to be near a friend."

"I see." He rubbed his thumb on her arm and she sighed in contentment.

"You're so much like Daddy."

"As much as I might find your family life enchanting, please concentrate on the matter at hand," he bit out with a dark scowl.

"Oh. Right. Did you notice that it was only a six-fold process? Not seven? Blake seems to be playing with the inversion of God and Satan. Since it is Hell that gives knowledge, there can only be six chambers."

Severus fingered the wiry hair that cascaded down her arm. "Have you forgotten what happened after the books were bound and made into libraries?"

She lay her chin on her knee to contemplate. "The true life, meaning the experience of the senses, was put in chains by the 'cunning of weak and tamed minds.' I see now why you were not pleased by my joke about Slytherin cunning."

"Let humor be humor, Miss Granger. I have not been offended."

"That's good." She blew bangs off her forehead. "Getting back to the seventh step, though … it's not just enough to read and memorize books, is it?"

"You tell me."

She chewed on her fingernail until Severus swiped her hand away from her mouth. "Stop that."

She hid her fingers under her thighs, fidgeted and then leaned down for the book. Severus picked it up first and handed it to her, relieved that Lucius has spoken the truth. Both of them could handle to the book now that they had read it in its entirety.

"It's a bit easier to concentrate if I just read it. Could you hold my drink? Thanks. So let's see. Ah, here it is.

"_I was in a Printing house in Hell & saw the method in which knowledge is transmitted from generation to generation._

"_In the first chamber was a Dragon-Man, clearing away the rubbish from a cave's mouth; within, a number of Dragons were hollowing the cave._

"_In the second chamber was a Viper folding round the rock & the cave, and others adorning it with gold silver and precious stones._

"_In the third chamber was an Eagle with wings and feathers of air: he caused the inside of the cave to be infinite, around were numbers of Eagle like men, who built palaces in the immense cliffs.  
_

"_In the fourth chamber were Lions of flaming fire raging around & melting the metals into living fluids.  
_

"_In the fifth chamber were Unnam'd forms, which cast the metals into the expanse.  
_

_"There they were reciev'd by Men who occupied the sixth chamber, and took the forms of books & were arranged in libraries._"

Severus handed back her drink. "Are you quite certain you were able to ascertain the meaning of that?"

Hermione paused and grinned at the stoic expression of the Potions Master. "Did you know that a Muggle rock band named themselves The Doors because of a phrase in that book?"

With a bored tone of voice, Severus answered, "I was your age when Jim Morrison died in Paris. I do believe I'm more familiar with their music than you are, Miss Granger."

With a hand brushing back her untamable hair, she asked, "So did you have a favorite song?"

"I should think 'Whiskey, Mystics & Men' was popular."

She gave him a blank stare in response, clearly not familiar with the music at all. Severus prompted, "Are you quite finished stalling, Miss Granger? Or have you exhausted the depths of your understanding?"

She blushed and took a large gulp of her liqueur. The professor held back a smile at the thought that it would surely loosen her tongue.

"You could say that Blake used vitriol as an acid to etch the copper plates for his book. That wouldn't be quite enough of an explanation because vitriol is the summation of alchemy."

Severus shifted. "Care for more drink?"

She politely declined, much to his disappointment. He summoned the bottle and refilled his own glass. "Very warming, isn't it?"

She drank the rest of her liqueur. "Mmmm. Yes. I suppose a bit more wouldn't hurt."

"That's the spirit." He poured half a glass for her. "Moderation," he explained. "After all, I am supposed to be a responsible adult."

Hermione gave him an odd expression. Her experience with adults who were irresponsible appeared rather limited. "To responsibility," she quipped, offering a toast.

Severus accepted and drank a bit, watching her drink another large sip. "Best to take drink in small amounts," he cautioned.

"Oh, I'm fine," she answered. She was grinning from ear to ear. "It's like juice."

"It is distracting us from our discussion," he observed.

Hermione drank the last of it. "All gone," she giggled and handed him the crystal. "No more distractions."

Severus vanished the drinks. In that moment Hermione had stood and wobbled before falling into his lap. "If we're going to talk about alchemy, we'd best do it properly. Daddy and I read and discussed in his chair every night."

Severus pushed Hermione to the side roughly. "You have mistaken me for someone who cares about your family life. Please concentrate on the matter at hand."

Hermione pouted and tried to reclaim her spot on his lap. His arousal grew as she threw her arms around him in a hug. A sound of polite knocking gave Severus the excuse he needed to extricate himself from the clingy girl. He opened the door to a young woman wearing Ministry of Magic robes and a thick pair of glasses. She greeted him. "Severus Snape?"

"What business does the Ministry have with me?" he growled.

The woman pushed past him into the office. "I deal with the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts. Today a Muggle-born student in your care experienced a curse placed on a book, isn't that right?" The ministry official sized up the girl on the couch. "I only need a brief word with you, Mr. Snape."

"You can see that I am in the middle of tutoring, Miss …?" He broke off.

"I think it best if you just call me Kitty, Mr. Snape. As for your student, she can stay. I won't be taking much of your time, but I do think a place for private discussion is in order."

Severus glared at the official. "Well, _Kitty_,why are you meeting with me when protocol requires you to meet with the Headmaster?"

"Don't make this more difficult than it needs to be," the woman said, pursing her lips in a way that reminded Severus of someone else. He couldn't place the resemblance of her red-tinted hair and the ringlets that framed the stern face.

"Shall we take this into the corridor?" he suggested.

"With students milling about?" she scoffed. "You don't want any of the students to know about the incident, do you?" She tossed her head impatiently.

"If you are so eager, I keep a store room below this office," he sneered.

"Perfect," she snapped back. Turning to the girl, the ministry official said, "Have some more bread and cheese, dear." Plates hovered in front of the girl.

Severus opened a hatch on the floor and pointed at the ladder with smirk. "I believe the saying is, 'Ladies first.'"

The ministry official smiled, showing a beautiful set of teeth. "You are the gentleman I've heard so much about."

Severus caught the flirtatious hint in her voice. His curiosity quelled his intention to imprison her under the floor. After watching her gingerly climb down, he descended into the dank storage room and turned to face her.

"Lumos." The ministry official lit the tip of her wand as she loosened her hair.

Admiring her hair falling down her shoulders, he remarked, "Hello," à la Humphrey Bogart and Dorothy Malone in _The Big Sleep_.

"It's good to see you, Severus." The vixen slipped off her glasses revealing familiar brown eyes with a mischievous sparkle.

"Hermione?" he whispered.

"In the flesh," she answered, pressing a longing kiss into his lips. He returned the passion, wrapping his arms around the vision of his lover as a young woman.

Getting a hold on his desires, he pulled back and muttered with bitterness. "Why did you have pick this moment to visit?"

"To thank you," she whispered, planting a gentle kiss on his lips. "You treated me properly when I was a tipsy child who didn't know what she was doing." She pecked at his cheeks. "For your reward, I will visit your quarters tonight."

He grabbed her waist and pulled her close, burying his lips into her hair. "If you don't show up, I swear I will hunt you down and have my way with you."

She grinned. "I'd like to see you do that."

He smothered his face in her neck and frisked his hands over her robe, memorizing the feel of her firm breasts. Her breath caught when pressed his arousal against hers, creating passion through their confining robes.

"Severus, we can't do this right now."

He pressed her back against the ladder, grinding into her more. "Yes, we can."

"No," she pleaded. "Upstairs I'm getting bored. I'm about to leave because it's taking too long."

He pulled back and chuckled. "How do you know that?"

"Because I was there. How else would I know?"

"What do you mean," he said, becoming serious.

"The ministry official showed up and you disappeared into the floor. I remember thinking that I'd gotten you into a hell of a lot of trouble and wondering who I could find that could fix the whole mess." She put on the glasses, hiding her true appearance. The lips were Hermione's but the face of the beautiful woman he'd just snogged was replaced by that of a frumpy witch glaring at him sternly as she magicked her hair into a bun once again.

"Is your wand lit?" she asked with a knowing smile.

He flicked it and smirked back, "Yes."

"Excellent." She started up the ladder, exposing her bare legs in the robes. Severus wondered if she was even wearing knickers and he quickly climbed after her, holding the light as he tried to spy his prize. She had reached the top far too quickly but there was no doubt about what was lit after that show of flesh.

When Severus climbed out of the hole in the floor, the ministry official admonished, "Your explanation is satisfactory. Let me make this clear. Any word of this event spoken to even a single student will result in dire consequences to both you and your student." She glanced at the child holding a piece of baguette in mid-bite. "If you fail to make her understand the importance of this directive, I will hold you completely accountable. Now, are we in agreement about all of our arrangements?"

Severus ignored her playful intimation. With sarcastic finesse, he replied, "Perfectly. The next time we meet, I hope it will be under more pleasurable circumstances." He led her to the door and felt her quiver at his side.

"It can be arranged," she answered. "Good evening, Mr. Snape."

He slammed the door behind her and turned back to the First Year gawking at him from her perch on the sofa.

"Are we in trouble?" she asked in a timid voice.

"Everything is fine," he replied, drawing on thoughts of annoyance to quench his unsatisfied bodily desires. "Now, before we are interrupted again, I want you to explain precisely what you learned from our reading today."


	22. Philosopher's Stone

_**It is so damn frustrating to possess brilliant intellect while lacking the eloquence to express it.**_

**July 31, 2011**  
[Updated August 18]  
**Epistle-length author note**

Dear Reader, I so wish that I could easily understand literature. I fear making "mistakes" in interpretation of literature and being ashamed later.

How odd that I don't fear being ashamed by writing attempts at literary smut. Interestingly, in researching alchemy, I discovered that sexual intercourse is symbolic of "the Lesser Stone". The sex in _this_ fanfiction is also less significant than the story itself.

As I said in Chapter 1, I'm not very familiar with Harry Potter but I've rushed through reading all the books by now. I had not known the alchemical symbolism in Harry Potter until I started researching and writing these two chapters (21 & 22).

I'm attempting to assign alchemical symbolism to this fanfiction and it is in conflict with the symbolism others have analyzed in _Harry Potter_. That is driving me crazy but I hope it does not affect you, now that you know my plan.

I'd like to flatter myself and say that I've discovered how JKR drew on William Blake's _The Marriage of Heaven and Hell_ in writing the _Harry Potter _series. Since I didn't find anyone else who shares my literary analysis, we can all rest assured that I am insane for finding a connection.

One item that is driving me batty in particular is the using of "Devouring" by Blake and the term "Death Eaters" by Rowling. Here's the rub: I'm an over-educated, unemployed housewife who has the audacity to think she's could tie an impossible-to-interpret literary work to _Harry Potter_. This alone has put me in a foul mood.

Several chapters back I tried to have Hermione explain the quantum physics theories behind time travel. Do you remember how that worked out? As far as I could tell, no one understood it. I get frustrated by my inability to write in Hermione's voice. I hope you can endure this chapter better than I can.

Sincerely,  
DZ

* * *

**The Philosopher's Stone  
Chapter 22**

_The objective of alchemy is called the _Magnus Opus_, the Great Work. William Blake's "Memorable Fancy" about the "Printing House in Hell" is typically understood as an analogy for printing copper plates in the style of his own print shop. See for yourself if the symbolism on Plate 15 of _The Marriage_ mirrors the stages of the alchemist's Great Work. I list my sources at the end of this chapter. _

* * *

"Tell me the secrets that the book revealed to you," Severus demanded as he paced in front of her. His demeanor had changed since the ministry official left.

Hermione peered up at the menacing figure. She swallowed nervously but her face dawned with comprehension that the book had taught magick and secrets beyond the words and images on the page. Now she was coiled on the chair, hugging her knees to her body. "Everything I learned started with Draco," she stated.

Severus stopped pacing and pierced her with his eyes. He was tempted to use Legilmency on her but the words of the ghostly Professor Binns haunted him. If he delved into her mind, would he be too exhausted for the upcoming confrontation with Lucius Malfoy? Although relieved that his student's Head of House, Minerva McGonagall, had not shown up all afternoon, he also knew that she would soon arrive in all her formidable verbosity to rescue the child from his clutches.

"Explain."

"Draco Malfoy and his mates asked me about what I was doing at the library. When I told him I was studying literature, Draco showed us the book his father donated to Hogwarts. Before he handed the book to me, he sent Crabbe and Goyle to see if anyone else was in the library. That's when he handed me the book and said that I would never be able to read it because I wasn't a real witch. When I opened the book in front of him, I got the first cut. He sneered, said that he must have given me the wrong book, then left me alone there. That's when I got the burn on my hand because I tried to put it back on the shelf."

Severus interrupted her, "Did he see your burn?"

"Oh, no, of course not. He walked off quickly. The burn only started out as a strong heat. I had nearly left the stacks before the pain erupted into blistering hot boils. I doubled over and was in so much pain that couldn't breathe or call out loud enough for anyone to hear me. That's when I knew I had to crawl back to the book. It fell off the shelf, opening to the first page, right in front of me. That's when I started reading it. Then I discovered that it cut my hand every time I turned a page. I tried to count the number of pages I still had to read but they were sealed shut. I don't know how the book knew I had read a page, but I couldn't skip ahead until I at least skimmed over the words."

Severus was standing in one place now, his restless pacing overtaken by interest. "Why did you stop reading it?"

She looked up at him. "I didn't stop, really. I turned back to page two and looked more closely at the paintings." She blushed deeply. "I wanted to see the woman giving birth to the Eternal Hell, the new heaven. And I wondered if it was that pleasant to kiss, like the naked people running in the clouds."

Severus merely cocked his eyebrow, willing himself not to tell the girl that kissing was indeed all that. He watched the girl's expression relax as she understood that no vitriolic condemnation would be assigned to her curiosity. Her eyes were more bold in meeting her professor's gaze now.

"I studied the next page, too. The one with the child held by the naked man in the sun and the woman chained in the flames. I mean, maybe it was a naked man. I don't know for sure."

Severus smirked when the girl's eyes fixated on his loins. Her virgin curiosity endeared her to him. In that moment he saw that he had become a man to her. Although he was glad that she would stop comparing him to her father, he felt sorry that her innocence was so much closer to being gone. Yet he knew that he was responsible for freeing her from her virginity fourteen years ago, and that she would one day know the same pleasure in his arms. Even that very night she had promised to come to him for that elixir of life, the celebration of Hell's burning desires.

Severus coaxed her eyes up with his words. "So you admired the beauty of the man holding the child? That is what caused you to stop reading?"

"No," she answered as if it should be obvious to him. "When turned to page six, my hand was sliced more deeply than the others had been. Even though I read half the page, the pain got worse and I bled more, if that is even possible."

"And then I found you?"

"Yes."

"So that was the start of it all," Severus stated. He began to pace again. "I had expected you to speak of the six chambers in Hell." He held her in an accusing gaze.

"Haven't I?" she shot back in defense. "I told you Draco was the start of it all. The Dragon-Man. The _prima materia_." Her eyes rolled at his apparent stupidity.

"Do you even know what the _prima material_ is?" He towered above her.

She stood and returned the challenge, although she was tiny before his formidable presence. "The Original Matter," she stated, as if any student would know this. "Also known as _draco_ and symbolized by the Dragon. The chamber clearly represents Calcination, the first step in making the Stone. It begins the Black Phase in a cave hidden in Hell where fire burns away impurity. If it wasn't so obvious, it would be laughable for Draco Malfoy to hand me a book called _The Marriage of Heaven and Hell_."

The Potions Master gripped Hermione's shoulders, crushing the grin off her face. "What do you know of the Stone?" His spittle flecked her cheek and she wiped it away, eyes never deviating from his.

"If you are so daft that you have not figured it out for yourself, don't expect me to explain it to you."

"Do not play games, Miss Granger," he roared, shaking her. He felt perversely empowered by her rag-doll body.

She fought him, fingernails digging into his forearms as she tried to push him away. "Stop!" she cried out and then pleaded. "Please! Stop."

He did stop, holding her at arm's length. She clutched her head in her hands and sagged toward his chest. "My head hurts," she whimpered.

"Hermione," he whispered, pulling her to his chest until his better sense took hold. He helping her to ease into the seat. Alarmed at her closed eyes, he summoning a vial and uncorked. The vapors rose like smoke below her nose. He held his breath until her eyes fluttered open.

"I'm going to pour this into your mouth. Hold it there under your tongue." She nodded her assent before he tapped the side of the glass tube, urging the black sludge into her mouth. Measuring the proper dose, he sealed it and sent it flying back to his stores.

"Swallow any saliva that builds up, but let the potion be absorbed under your tongue," he instructed, kneeling in front of the chair. Looking away, he whispered, "I never meant to be as weak as my father was." Turning back, he implored, "Find yourself a man who has been loved and who knows how to love you. Steer clear of the likes of me."

The girl gave him a quizzical look but was muzzled by the liquid in her mouth. He stood up and paced the room until she asked, "Was that Licorice?"

Turning back, he answered, "Licorice Root is the primary ingredient in Mettle of Valor Elixir. It fully restores brain and nervous system functions from physical injuries in proportion to the amount of time that has passed since the initial event."

"My headache is gone."

"Are you able to continue our discussion?"

She was silent and he looked to her tight lips and annoyed eyes flaring at him.

"I am not asking you to explain anything for my benefit," he sighed in exasperation. "As your professor, I am testing your understanding of the material. You only need to give your interpretation."

"Oh," she said brightly, "well, that I can do."

Severus held back his annoyance. Now he knew. She was an insecure child who fed off teachers' praise and sought validation from authority figures - the kind of student he despised. He knew exactly how to play her and force her to change whatever mad decision it was on her part to travel to the past and involve him in this charade.

"Proceed," he sneered, not bothering to face her again.

"The Dragon loses its wings and becomes the Viper when the _prima material_ is purified even more during alchemical Dissolution. Blake refers to the spiritual foundation represented by 'gold, silver and precious stones' because these would survive the judgment of Christian works built on the foundation of faith."

With arms folded over his chest, he prodded, "Go on."

"The alchemist moves on to Separation to discard worthless material. To goal is to purify the essences of the metal and to make them ascend using Air. The Proverbs of Hell tell us that the Eagle is 'a portion of Genius' so in this step Blake points to the redeemable value of reason. He's told us already that using reason without perception is weakness. The Devil's Truth is that the Body is not distinct from the Soul. Reason is not separate from the perception of Energy, which is sensual enjoyment. It is as he said, 'If the doors of perception were cleansed, everything would appear to man as it is: infinite.'"

She earned a begrudging nod, which made her grin deliriously at his subtle approval. "Now for the Lions," she said with a snicker, evidently enamored with the Gryffindor connotations. "The Conjunction is symbolized by the Lion and by the fire and water in the fourth chamber of Hell's Printing House. The pure substances become an incarnation, where the living fluids are symbolic of Blake's spiritual beliefs. The Lesser Stone is formed."

Pacing once again, Severus saw that she understood the process of creating the Philosopher's Stone even if she did not know its secrets. He was certain that no other students at Hogwarts had this knowledge. This made her both dangerous and extremely valuable.

"Step five is Fermentation," she rattled off. "It is a spiritual new life, the formation of the Unnamed mystic substance out of the black rot of Putrefaction. At the end an oily film, the so-called Peacock's Tail, rises."

She did not bother to look up for approval any longer, but went on, "At last the White Phase creates the Mother of the Stone. Called Sublimation, the boiled vapors condense into powder. Spirit is corporeal in rebirth and the realization of Truth and Love."

Severus could not hold back his snigger at her last remark. "So that is it, then? It took all those words to say you learned Truth and Love?"

"No, Sir. I have not learned Truth and Love. Not yet."

Taken aback at her sincere and honest response, he asked in a gentler manner, "What, then?"

"Blake expects that the final step, Coagulation, is yet to come. The _Ultima Materia_, or Philosopher's Stone, will only come into being when the Viper and the Lion unite, when the world is consumed by fire. He thinks there are two classes of men who are enemies forever, never to be reconciled. There are the Prolific, those who experience the totality of sensual energy in the world. The Prophets and Poets. Then there are the Devouring. They think they are cunning but they deceive themselves, believing they've put the Giants who formed the world's sensual existence into chains. The Devouring take a portion from the Prolific, thinking that they have taken it all. That is why the Proverbs of Hell say that the weak in courage is strong in cunning."

Silence slithered around the man and the girl. The Potions Master pinched the bridge of his nose and scowled as if in pain. "How much of this did you know before you picked up the book?"

"Most of it, I suppose. I've read little snatches here and there. My father liked to tinker with chemicals and philosophy alike. But I didn't really integrate all the steps of the process until I read this book." She picked up the book and rubbed the cover fondly, as if it had been enjoyable to acquire new knowledge, no matter the pain.

Severus snapped at her, "None of it is real. It is all Muggle wive's tales. You don't see us teaching alchemy at Hogwarts, do you?"

She frowned at him and lifted her index finger to her chin in thought. "That is because it is ancient magic, isn't it? It is far too dangerous to teach to children."

"You speak folly," the Potions Master accused with venom. "You know nothing about ancient magic and you show your ignorance by presuming to discuss it."

Her face fell. He saw that she was hurt by his assessment.

After a long silence she responded, "You are testing me again, aren't you? You speak the way the Devouring would answer the Prolific."

"Do you think you know everything?" he sneered.

She considered his question, leaving a painful chasm of silence and hostility in the air far longer than her teacher was comfortable to endure. When she gave her answer, her eyes refused to meet his. "I don't know the Prolific, do I?" she whispered in a voice tinged with guilt and despair. "I can only regurgitate what I have read. I do not deserve to be named with the Lions of Gryffindor."

"You would be a Viper, then?" Severus teased.

"I have no place at a school for witches," she admitted. "Draco Malfoy told me as much. He was the beginning and the end, wasn't he? That must be why I am friendless and alone. Perhaps the Headmaster will allow me to leave Hogwarts and return home."

"He will do no such thing!"

Hermione raised her head in shock at her professor's vehement response. The enigma of the Potions Master stood in front of her now. "You are tired and have suffered too many ordeals today. I will not have you blathering nonsense about having no place in Hogwarts. Under normal circumstances, I would take House points away for such idiocy. And mind you, I should be highly offended that you have so quickly forgotten that you have one friend." He lifted her chin up to look into the intense brown eyes, shimmering with unspilled tears.

"Thank you, Sir," she choked out, slamming into him with a desperate hug.

He stood with his hands at his side, wishing she would be done with her show of affection. When she did release him, he continued speaking as if nothing had occurred. "I will brief the Headmaster on what we discussed. Apart from the Headmaster or me, you must not speak of what has happened today. Not with Draco. Not with any friends you make. Can you abide by this or do I need to enforce it with a magical jinx?"

"I don't have anyone else to talk to," she responded with dejection. "As long as I can speak with the Headmaster, I see no problem with remaining silent about it."

"I am sorry that it must be this way," he softened. "There is only one more thing to discuss before you return to your dormitory." He lifted her chin up again. "Your front teeth are protruding abnormally. I can't help but wonder—"

Hermione pulled away from him in revulsion, slapping both hands over her mouth.

"What is it now?" he groaned, wiping his bangs out of his face with what little patience he had left.

"Don't talk about my teeth," she begged him. "Just … pretend they look normal. And stop looking at me like that!"

His eyes widened and he looked away. "I'm … well, I didn't mean any—"

"Just leave well enough alone!" she sobbed, releasing a torrent of frustration.

The office door swung open and hit the wall with a bang as Minerva stormed in, followed by doddering old Albus.

"Now do you see what I mean?" Minerva complained, rushing to the child. She glared at Severus. "I will never understand why you place your trust in such hopelessly incompetent men. He's reduced the child to a puddle of tears, for goodness sake."

Albus leveled eyes with Severus and they both raised their eyebrows in shared understanding.

* * *

**Sources**

I am indebted to the analysis of _The Marriage of Heaven and Hell_ provided by Steen Rasmussen on his blog "utilizing angelfire" (link to text introduction with graphics of William Blake's printed book: http:/ / . com/ texts_and_quotes/ blake01. html).

Without the content at The AZoth Ritual page, I would not have been able to have Hermione talk about the seven steps of alchemy. Also, I would not have deciphered the imagery of Blake in my interpretation of his work. You can see a graphic of Basil Valentine's "AZoth of the Philosophers" and read the full explanation at http:/ / www. azothalchemy. org/ azoth_ritual. htm.

Also, I am indebted to The Alchemy web site on Levity dot com (http:/ / www. levity. com/ alchemy/) for its vast resources. It was there that I found a discussion about the Dragon losing its wings to become the Viper and discovered the meaning that the earthly substance of mercury was purified, and thus lost its wings.

* * *

**More words**

I have attempted to write this chapter and its literary analysis without imposing my personal beliefs or religion.

I'm rather exhausted from the intense study required for these latest chapters. I need to take a week or two break from writing, otherwise my personal frustration will show up as a frigid Hermione or abusive Severus in the upcoming scenes. I have enjoyed your recent reviews and I apologize for not replying while I finished up this chapter. Hopefully my writing quality will be much improved the next time I update.


	23. Do Not Mock a Malfoy

**August 18, 2001**

Many thanks to Christina Wynnwood for Beta reading and constructive comments. Thanks for waiting for me to post another chapter.

_I corrected the author notes in the last chapter where I miss-typed Marriage of Heaven and Hell. (twice I had written "Earth" instead of "Hell.")_

* * *

**Do Not Mock a Malfoy  
Chapter 23**

Hermione sniffled as she pushed away from Professor McGonagall's domineering bosom. "I'm fine," she protested, waving away the concerns of her Head of House. "It's nothing."

"I have serious doubt that it is _nothing_, Miss Granger," snipped the crone. She thrust a white handkerchief into the girl's face. "I regret allowing the Headmaster to influence my better judgment. I should never have left you alone with this menace in black."

Severus interjected with a sullen tone, "_Et tu_, Minerva."

"Don't '_et tu'_ me! I've not betrayed a soul." She spun around. "Albus, tell me, how do you tolerate his gall?"

The wizened Headmaster chortled. "I believe our young Potions Master meant that _you also _wear black."

"And possibly the bit about being a 'menace,'" Hermione offered, though her voice was muffled by the cloth over her mouth.

Severus hid his mirth behind polite coughs. He managed an affectionate glance at Hermione, his eyes wrinkling in crow's feet.

Minerva pulled back resolutely, seeing that she had been smothering the girl. She harbored no ill will toward the child. Her attitude toward the Head of Slytherin was quite different. "Just what was it that required the better half of the day to sort out, Severus?"

Albus clasped his hands behind his back. "That is a matter which I shall see to personally. Perhaps a better use of your time would be to inquire after the independent studies that your student has undertaken."

Minerva crushed her lips together so firmly that all that remained of them were the creases revealing that evanished vortex of suppressed anger.

Hermione jolted and slapped her forehead lightly. "I left all my books at the library! May I be dismissed, Sir, to collect them?"

It was apparent that Hermione had addressed the "Sir" to Severus rather than the headmaster. Variously, the faces of the faculty members attempted to conceal their disparagement, amusement or allurement.

"Miss Granger," Headmaster Dumbledore answered, "your books have been safely collected and delivered to Professor McGonagall. I trust you will confide in her if you have any further needs relating to your studies both within and without Hogwarts. As a boarding school, it is our responsibility and desire to ensure that you are both free from harm and unhindered in your academic pursuits." He gave a purposeful look to Minerva in order to gauge her willingness to cooperate.

He continued to address the child, "You and I will have an opportunity to discuss today's events on another day. In the meantime, if you have any concerns, you may visit my office or ask your professor to contact me."

Hermione appraised the Headmaster. "Why can't I talk about the afternoon's events with Professor McGonagall?" She glanced at the stern witch who flanked her side with a possessive air.

Albus leaned closer to Hermione with a generous twinkle in his eye. "The lesson that secrets are worth keeping is one which each of us in this room has grown to appreciate. You see, Child, to be trusted is nigh divine. Now, if you perceive any sleight of hand or corruption, your professor will be obligated to acquire the services of an Ombuds-Witch from the Ministry. These trusted confidants operate under secret-keeping spells as they discuss sensitive issues with clients and Aurors—the Ministry's law enforcement agents, if you will."

"I know about Aurors, but this is the first I have heard of ombudsmen in Wizardom."

Albus stole a glance at Minerva before returning his gaze to Hermione. "That is because the use of their services is confidential and, therefore, unreported."

Severus shifted on his feet. "Although your little chit-chat stirs my stirs my soul to profound depths, I would be grateful if you would remove these formalities from my office. I require some privacy after a long and trying day. No doubt, Miss Granger is in need the same. As such, I urge you to cut short your less-than-fascinating commentary."

Hermione stepped toward Severus. He drew back sharply and looked down his nose at the girl when he detected her arms reaching out for an embrace. A glint of comprehension grew beneath her furrowed brows. She recovered, holding out a stiff hand to Severus for a formal handshake. "Thank you, Sir, for your help."

He took her hand awkwardly, as few witches or wizards had ever bothered with the formality. He softly squeezed her fingers in appreciation of her subtly. Her eyes flicked up at to his before she made a stiff turn to the elderly witch.

"Come along," Minerva ordered before she skewered Severus with a glare. She left the room with a haughty air of superiority and just indignation. The girl followed meekly behind, her eyes cast down to survey the intricate patterns on the stone floor.

When the door shut, Severus breathed in deeply. "Albus, it was nearly too much—"

"Oh, yes, I am well aware of the situation." The elderly man picked wax out of his ear and stated with feigned carelessness, "I received a visit from a certain young woman today."

"Who?"

"Who else? Miss Granger."

Severus choked. "Hermione Granger? But—impossible!—she was with me the entire afternoon."

Albus smiled with weary patience. "Young Granger most certainly was with you this afternoon. That does not cancel the fact that a young woman visited me. Like any responsible wizarding citizen, she had the decency to stop by my office to explain the nature of her business at Hogwarts."

The Potions Master turned crimson. "What business did she have?" He twisted away from the old man, unwilling to hear his worst fears confirmed.

"Come now, Severus. You've already informed me of your romantic liaison with the witch. It's far too late for embarrassment, don't you think?"

The younger man sneered behind twin drapes of black hair. "I had hoped for my affairs to be relegated to the privacy of my quarters. But I see that all my trysts with this she-devil will be an open book to your prying eyes. I suppose you are aroused by dalliances undertaken by your subordinates."

While Severus delivered his retort, Lucius Malfoy stepped through the fireplace in a flare of green fire. He brushed flecks of soot off dress robes with his black-leather-hugged fingers.

Tossing slick, shiny hair off his face, he congratulated Severus. "Snape, you old goat, I knew your celibacy was too good to be true." As if an afterthought, he acknowledged, "Headmaster."

"What is that insidious stench?" Severus complained, gripping the length of his proboscis to arrest the malodor from assaulting him further. "By Salazar's Fen, are you wearing yet another insalubrious Muggle toilet water, Lucius?"

"You and your sensitive nose!" Lucius chided him. "Not everyone has such a low opinion of my choice of cologne."

Albus murmured, "I must admit, Mr. Malfoy, you do emanate a rather sensual sophistication."

Lucius smirked. "Are you extending an invitation for some diplomatic intercourse later this evening, _Mister _Dumbledore? Or do you merely fancy my Drakkar Noir?"

"You've got to joking," the Potions Master snorted his subdued remark.

Lucius cocked his head to the side. "I'd forgotten that you were not among the boys who graced Dumbledore's bed. Pity."

"Regrettably," Albus confirmed, "Severus was rather set in his preferences. And all these years I still have not been able to persuade him to receive my attentions."

Lucius curled his lips up. "A Slytherin on the receiving end? None would be so daft. You've gone about it all wrong, Old Man."

"Oh, I think not."

Severus sneered. "I have no wish to be included in passions of that sort."

Lucius asked with sincerity, "How do you manage to find creature comforts in a castle as lonely as this?"

"Do not assume that I lack any of the comforts that men prefer."

"He is right," Albus confided with a gloating countenance. "He's been visited of late by an enchanting transient. She's almost tempting enough to make me consider her wares."

Lucius shifted his eyes to Severus. "What secrets have you been keeping, dear Severus?"

"None that concern you," he replied with finality.

The Headmaster and the Board Governor exchanged glances. Their heated anticipation of nocturnal delights nettled the Professor as he considered his own longing for Granger.

"If the two of you are so eager to enthrall each other, my conversation with Lucius can be postponed for another day."

Albus snickered. "Severus has some bewitching planned for later this evening. I'd best let you boys have your chat. And Mr. Malfoy, I shall be extremely disappointed if I do not receive your attention this evening."

"I have never disappointed you, Headmaster." The hunger in his eyes burned as he escorted the old man to the door of the Potion Master's office.

The towheaded man clicked the lock and turned back to Severus. He removed each glove one finger at a time. "I always wondered why Dumbledore did not favor you. Your decision to refuse the backdoor to him was the right one. If you permit me, I may be able to persuade him to bend to your …"

"Don't waste your effort," Severus chastised his comrade. He smoothed back his black locks.

"I see the allure Dumbledore hints of." Lucius murmured as he preened his own cascading avalanche.

"Touch me and you die," the man crowned in black threatened.

Lucius' smile revealed scintillating teeth. "The most pleasurable way to go." The scowl he received soon lodged on his own face. "Fine," he snapped.

"Why do you do this to Narcissa?" Severus asked.

An arrogant laugh erupted from the man's broad chest. "She is not threatened in the least by Dumbledore. She tolerates my excursions to this castle because it strengthens my vigor."

"She has a more than adequate chassis. Is she not enough for you?" Severus accused.

A wand pointed at the throat of the Potions Master. "My wife's body is not for you to appraise."

"She would have no problem if I were appraise yours," the professor countered.

The wand pressed against a pulsating jugular vein. "Do not entice my lust!" He concealed the staff and turned away. "Cissy knows and accepts my vanity, Severus, but I swear on the Mark, I have taken part in no philandering aside from Dumbledore.

"Narcissa brings me more happiness than I ever imagined possible. I would do nothing to injure her trust or devotion to me. I only partake of Dumbledore when she is indisposed. You remember how she suffers with pain and heavy bleeding. I am certain that she prefers my caresses after I've addressed my needs elsewhere."

"She still suffers? Why haven't you taken her to St. Mungo's?" Severus speared the man with an accusing stare.

"Can you blame her for not trusting them? She hardly leaves the Manor as it is. Vindictive Blood Traitors hide in every garden shadow and whispers of retribution speak to her from the single swish of a robe in Diagon Alley."

Severus frowned. "Have you no compassion?"

"After you take a wife, then you can talk to me, man to man," Lucius barked in retort. "You're still a lost little boy, Severus. Don't talk about my family life as if you even know what it means to protecting a wife and raise a son."

Severus was silent, feeling the sting of truth.

Lucius looked about the office. "Dobby!" he shouted.

A house-elf appeared with the explosive noise of displacement. "Master," the creature in his grimy, tattered sham responded, cowering low.

"Straighten up at once, foul thing."

The elf complied, eyes bulging. "I has not delivered one barrel of butterbeer to Draco and his classmates," he squeaked. He proceeded to crush his ears in vice-grip fists.

Lucius snarled, "I could care less what Draco thinks he's getting away with, you louse. Bring Mr. Snape two of the English Tudor chairs. Go!"

The elf disapparated and Severus eyed his companion. "Lucius, you do realize that my office is hardly the place for fine furniture."

"Nonsense," Lucius sniffed.

Dobby returned with a crack, bringing with him a pair of ornately carved oak chairs. "Master." He bowed with a tremble.

"Place them in front of the desk," Lucius ordered. "Are they adequate, Severus?"

The Potions master traced his fingers along the intricate serpentine carvings on one of the chair backs. "Adequate is an understatement, isn't it? These are antiques, are they not?"

"They are chairs, Severus. Do you need anything else? I'll get rid of that upholstered disgrace for you."

"No!" the man gasped. Collecting himself, he calmly stated. "I've grown fond of the chair, is all."

Lucius threw back his head in laughter. "You're still under the enchantment of the book, aren't you? I suspect you've grown fond of the time you spent reading it with that Muggle-born. You cannot hide it from me, Severus."

"I have nothing to hide," the Potions Master replied.

Lucius smiled. "Dobby!" The elf groveled at his feet. "Don't touch my shoes!" He kicked the elf to the wall and watched with satisfaction as it rebounded and staggered to its feet. "Bring Mr. Snape a low table and two matching chairs for the fireplace. They must match that—that monstrosity next to the floo. When you finish that task, make sure that lopsided piece is properly transfigured into a settee and preserved with anti-tampering spells."

The elf departed after making a show of a terrified bow.

"Come, Severus, let us test your new furniture."

They settled in front of the massive desk and drank fire whiskey to warm themselves. The coming and going of the elf faded from their attention.

"Tell me about Draco," Lucius said at last.

"You will not be pleased to hear what I have to say."

Lucius drawled, "It is my right to hear it."

With a resigned sigh, Severus began. "His error in better judgment will have long-lasting implications for Muggleborn activities among Wizardkind."

"What you suggest is preposterous. Are you making a poor attempt at a veiled threat or a joke of some kind?"

The professor slammed down his shot glass. "How can you fail to recognize the significance? The dark arts were not meant to be shared lightly."

Lucius eyed his companion. "What could a little girl possibly understand?"

"Everything, Lu. It is your folly if you underestimate her intelligence and what she can accomplish with the knowledge Draco handed to her. Your son is foolhardy and hot-headed, just like his father."

Lucius lunged at Severus. "Do not mock a Malfoy!"

Severus pried white-knuckled fists off his robe. "I am not in the habit of mocking. You, of all my affiliates, know that. I merely warn you that your preciously guarded secrets are exposed. How could you have failed to protect it from falling into the hands of a muggle-born?"

Lucius paced the office. "The protections were in place when I placed it in the Restricted Archives." He summoned he book and passed his wand over it, deep in concentration.

"The jinx in place still requires wizard blood. How did she—?"

"Dagworth-Granger," Severus muttered. "Founder of the Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers. Neither surname has survived among purebloods. I must admit, I always thought Dagworth was the wizarding of that half-blood union."

"Dagworth appears in the archives of purebloods," Lucius confirmed.

"But do you know for sure that it was not a Muggle who passed along his surname?"

The men stared at each other.

"What would you have me do, Severus?"

The dark professor stood, towering over his former upperclassman. "You must behave as though nothing has happened. You never saw Hermione Granger in my office. Your son never handed her a book of dark magic—the girl already confided to me that Draco never realized his mistake." He swiped the black bangs out of his face and stepped away, exposing his back to the speechless wizard. "And we are not sharing a drink in my office at this moment."

Lucius shifted on his feet. "What about Draco's detention."

Severus snorted. "There is no shortage of mischief that Draco is capable of. He will receive his punishment one way or another."

"And Dumbledore?"

"I'm sure he figured it all out long before we did. He'll handle McGonagall and the girl. Should you ever cross paths, the little witch is more than capable of concealing her recognition of you."

"You say that as if you know her."

Severus turned to face Lucius. "You would not believe me if I told you what I know."

Lucius waggled his eyebrows. "You've become enamored of her. Whatever happened to your undying devotion to that pathetic Evans girl?"

Severus threatened with a brandished wand, "Don't start with me!"

Lucius backed away. "Some things never change. You are far too predictable, Snape."

The younger man sneered and replaced his weapon. "Enjoy your romp with the Headmaster. Please send my regards to Narcissa. Oh, she asked me to keep watch over Draco. Assure her that he is sure to be top of his class this year. Yes, you heard me. Tell her he will receive top marks in every subject."

Lucius smirked. "You have no reason to flatter the Malfoy family."

"I just like to see you put in your place. My bet is that Granger will outperform your son."

Lucius growled. "Your wager does not amuse me."

Severus gave a half turn and fixed chilling eyes on the aristocrat. "Not—a—word—about—Granger." The young professor emphasized each syllable with unyielding command.

The Malfoy patrician nodded warily as he fumbled with his leather gloves.

* * *

_**Author Note cont'd**_

I've got loads of real life crap to catch up with. I'm planning the next chapter (intimacy between Hermione and Severus) but I'll need some time to make sure that its not a PWP chapter. Thanks for understanding the long waits between posts.


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